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'• Vether it's worth while goin' through so much, to learn so little, 
as the Charity-boy said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a 
matter o' taste. I rayther think it isn't." — Qi'oth Old Weller. 





Introductory Remarks ----- 1 

Some Accomit of the Treluoodles - - - - 9 

Visit to Lunnmi - - - - - - 16 

Samidry Kempe and Mall Treloare - - - - 22 

Tom Pengersick and Die Treugurtha - - - 27 

Job Mimglar and Jan Trudle - - - - 3 1 

Tom Trelore and Mai 36 

Jan Knuckey and Graacey - - - - 38 

Gracey Penveor and Mally Treviskey - - - 43 

The Baarley Mow - - - - - -47 

The Portmantle - - - - - - 51 

Account of a Chrestmas Play - - - - - 53 

The Furry-day Song ------ 60 

Song on Sir Jonathan Trelawny - - - - 62 

St. Kayne's Well 64 

The Well of St. Keyne 65 

John Dory -- 68 

The Duke of Cornwall's Daughter - - - - 70 

The Stout Cripple of Cornwall - - - - 75 

Squab Pie 79 

Old Drinking Song ------ 80 

Specimen of the Old Cornish language - - - 82 

Extract from Borde's Introduction to Knowledge - 84 

Glossary 88 

Furry-day Song tune 106 


The first part of this little collection contains 
some specimens of the present Cornish provincial 
dialect, which is but Httle known out of the county ; 
and even there is gradually wearing away in the 
to^\'ns ; and is scarcely to be heard in its full richness, 
except in the mining districts, or in the parts most 
remote from traffic and intercourse with strangers. 
To be properly appreciated it should be heard, being 
accompanied by a peculiar intonation or singing 
accent; a species of recitative, which has rather a 
pleasing effect, though it may render the dialect less 
intelligible to those unaccustomed to it. 

It is quite distinct from the antient Cornish 
language, which was a dialect of the Celtic, and very 
similar to the Welch. This has been obsolete as a 
living language for some centuries. Andrew Borde, 
a physician in the time of Henry Vlllth, says : "In 



Cornwal is two spechcS;, the one is naughty Englyshe, 
and the other is Cornyshe speche. And there- be 
many men and women the which cannot speake one 
worde of Englyshe, but all Cornyshe/' This implies 
tliat the Cornish Avas then no longer the general 
langviage of the country. Carew, in his Suney, 1G02, 
writes : " Most of the inhabitants can no word of 
Cornishj but very few are ignorant of the English, 
though they sometimes affect to be.*' Norden, 
whose survey of the county was -wTitten about 1584, 
says : " Of late the Cornishe men haue muche con- 
formed thcmselues to the vse of the Englishe tounge, 
and their Englishe is equall to the beste, especially 
in the easterne partes ; euen from Truro eastwai'de 
it is in manner wholy Englishe. In the w^este parte 
of the countrye, as in the hundreds of Pemcith and 
Kerrier, the Cornishe tounge is moste in vse 
amongste the inhabitantes, and yet (which e is to be 
marueyled) thowgh the husband and wife, parentes 
and children, master and sei'uantes, doe mutually 
comunicate in their natiue language, yet ther is none 
of them in manner but is able to conuers with a 
strauvger in the Englishe tounge, vnless it be some 
obscure people that seldome conferr with the better 
sorte : but it seemeth that in few yeares the Cornishe 
language Avilbe by htle and htle abandoned." Scawen, 
towai'ds the latter part of the 1 7 th centui-y, states, 
that Mr. Francis Robinson of Landewednack, (the 
l)arish at tlie Lizard) had recently preached a sermon 


in Cornish, as being the language best knoAvn to his 
auditory ; but this was in a remote part of the 
county, having Httle communication Tvith others, 
and he is said to have been the last person who 
preached in Cornish; Scawen adds, that an old 
woman had died about two years before at the great 
age of 164, who could scarcely speak anything but 
Cornish ; but he says, that the old language was, in 
general, quite extinct. Ray, in 1662, says, that Mr. 
Dicken Gwyn was considered the only person who 
could wTite in the Cornish language, that few of the 
children could speak it, and that it would soon be 
lost. Hals, in the beginning of last centurj-, re- 
marks, that the old Cornish tongue . was retained in 
the parish of Feock, till about 1640, and that Mr. 
William Jackman the Vicar, was obliged to ad- 
minister the sacrament in that tongue, because the 
old people did not well understand English. It had 
probably ceased to be generally spoken in the county 
prior to the time of Henry the VHIth ; but a 
disquisition on this subject would scarcely be in 
character with the slight pretensions of this com- 
pilation. However, in the latter half of the past 
century, Dolly Pentreath is mentione.l as the last 
person speaking this tongue; but as there is no 
account from any person well skilled in the subject, 
particularizing her idiom, it may ha^■c been onlv a 
veiy broad provincial dialect, intermixed with Tuuch 
of the ancient language, Avhich, with a stranger, 


might have passed for old Cornish.* About the 
same time, or but a few years previous, two other 
old women are mentioned, (Jane Cock, and Jane 
Woolcock) who were conversant with the language. 
Dolly Pentreath died in 1778, aged 102, and as 
she, at all events, has the reputation of being the last 
speaker of ancient Cornish, her portrait taken from 
a cotemporary print, appears as our frontispiece.f 
An engraving of her is also given in Cyiais Redding's 
illustrated Cornwall, a book which every admirer of 
the county should have. The modern provincial 
dialect contains many Cornish words, and also several 
Saxon terms now in general obsolete, but which were 
m common use about the time of Queen Elizabeth, 
and may be found in Shakespere, and cotemporary 

Of the provincial specimens, numbers 2 and 7 
were written by Mr. Fox, about 50 yeai's since ; 
number 7 has been printed in three or four works. 
No. 4 has been printed in Polwhele's History of 
Cornwall, and No. 3 w^as privately printed by the 
late D. Gilbert. A version of the Baiiey Mow Song 
is in Chappell's valuable and interesting collection of 
National EngUsh Airs ; that now given, is as sung at 

* See a paper by Daines Barrington in Archsologia, vol. 3, for an 
account of Dolly. 

f See Lluyd's Archaeologia Britannica, Pryce's Cornish Grammar, 
and the Creation of tbe World, with Noah's Flood, and ]Mount Calvary, 
edited by the late Davits Gilbert, Pres. R. S. for Specimens of ancient 


Harvest time, and other rural meetings in the West. 
No. 9 is a famiUar specimen of teUing a story in a 
moderated dialect. Tlie Christmas plays are still acted 
in Cornwall, and the editor has given one out of 
several valuations in his possession. 

The second part contains some pieces connected 
with Cornwall though not in the dialect. The Fuiry- 
day Song, is sung annually on the morning of tlie 
8th of May, at Helstone, where an antient custom is 
kept up, for all ranks to dance through the streets to 
a peculiai' tune ; each class forming its distinct set, 
and fade-ing through the town with great spirit. 
The origin of this custom is imknown, and it would 
be curious to ascertain when and why the first Furrj'^- 
day was kept. Many theories have been started on 
the subject, and if we had at work for us the intelli- 
gence in these matters of a Crofton Croker it might 
perhaps have been discovered. Some have derived it 
from the Floralia ; D.Gilbert from "foray," supposing 
it to be in commemoration of some victory over the 
Saxons ; but neither of these suppositions are pro- 
bable. It may have had rise from some of the May- 
day ceremonies, modified by local traditions. Cer- 
tain great feasts used to continue for several days, 
the first and the octave or last being more peculiarly 
days of rejoicing or solemnity. There is a tradition 
that St. Michael, the patron Saint of Helstone, made 
his appearance, or apparition as it is called, on the 
8th of May, at St. Michael's Mount, on a rock called 


his chair.=!= This may have been a reason for making 
the octave of the May feast, or 8th of May, a marked 
day at Ilelstone, and when May-day festivities became 
obsolete here, as elsewhere, the Furry-day continued 
to be observed, as at this present time, with much zeal 
and enjoyment. A description of the custom may be 
found in the various county histories, but a singular 
mistake occurs throughout, by adapting the song to 
the dance tune. It is sung to an old tune, or chant, 
as old perhaps as the custom. It must have puzzled 
the first adapter to make the song fit the dance, and 
to prevent further difficulty the real tune is given at 
the end of the book. The next song was made when 
Su' Jonathan Trelawney Bart, then Bishop of Bristol 
(afterwards of Winchester) was committed to prison 
with other prelates in 1688, for his defence of the 
Protestant religion; it is printed in D. Gilbert's paro- 
chial History of Cornwall. The legend of St. Keyne's 
Well appears from the songs, of which the first is 
from Carew, and the other by the lamented Southey. 
Norden, in his survey, calls it, ^' A spring rising 
under a tree of a moste straunge condition, for 
beynge but one bodie, it beareth the braunches of 4 
kindes, oke, ashe, elme, and withye." The song of 
John Dory, is in Chappell's collection, and also in 

* Not the celebrated chair, whereiu the male or female (and bold 
must she be) who sits, is to rule after marriage : which is the remains 
of an old stone lanthorn, outside the top of the tower of the castle, with- 
out support for the feet. 


Deuteromelia, IGll. Carew says, "one Nicholas, 
Sonne to a wicldow, neere Foy, is deskanted upon, in 
an old three mans songs, namely, how he fought 
brauely at sea, with John Dory (a Genowcy as 1 
conjecture) set forth by John the French king, and 
(, after much bloudshed on both sides) tooke, and slew 
him, in reuenge of the great rauine, and cixieltie, which 
he had forecommittcd, vpon the Englishmens goods 
and bodies." The family of Nicolas are distin- 
guished in our naval annals to the present day. " The 
Duke of Cornwall's Daughter," (being the history of 
fair Sabrina, and the subject of one of the doubtful 
plays attributed to Shakespere ;) and " The Stout 
Cripple of Cornwall," are from Evans's old Ballads. 
The account of the Squab Pie, was written it is said 
by a gentleman of Bodmin. The next song is from 
Deuteromelia, it is probably little known, and is 
inserted from its similarity to the " Barley Mow" 
song. The Fisherman's letter, from Archa^ologia, 
vol. 5, is given as a short specimen of the old Cornish 
tongue. The last piece in the collection is curious, 
and has not been noticed by any of the numerous 
writers on Cornwall ; but it is uncouth in form, and 
will scarcely repay the trouble of perusal. It is writ- 
ten by Andrew Borde an eccentric physician in the 
timeof Henry the 8th, and is printed in his Introduction 
to Knowledge, a work now not often met with. He 
does not seem to have understood the Cornish cha- 


racter, or it has changed since his time, for it is well 
known, that there is not a more inteihgent or respect- 
able set of men in the kingdom than the Cornish 
miners, and hospitality is one of the characteristics of 
the county. 



The Lavage of my family, wain't be easy for to lind 
'mong the County Ilist'ries ; though et oft for to be, 
as the antiquity of et es very auntient. I have heerd 
the ould saw, 

" When William tlie Conqueror did corae, 
Quarme, Cruid, and Crocker were at home." 

and have seen en a play-writen book, " the Slys arc 
no rosues Look in the chronicles, we came in with 
Richard Conqueror.^' Now we was at hoam long 
afore them Conquerors comed, and have ben very 
much at hoam ever sence. But, we be fine and ould, 
sure enough, and doesn't mind them as takes from 
the Normans, or King Arthur, or Jack the Giant 
Killer, or who was at the fight agen Juhus Ciesar 
Avhen he comed across from France 'bout the oyster 

* The value of the English pearls is said to have been one indurc- 
nient far Caesar's invasion.— V.d. 

B 2 


The Trenoodles was well to do as long agone as 
one thousand and one hundred years before the Chris- 
tian aera ; for, about this time, the grand wrestling 
bout corned off at the Hoe at Plemouth, between 
Corinaeus, and Gog-magog, when Corinaeus thraw'd 
his man by a Cornish hug (then first found out by he), 
and gived his name to Cornwall, which were the prize 
as they wrastled for. 

Gog-magog, were so bedoled, and so sheamed at 
being beat, that he dedn't live long after, and leav'd 
two sons who divided hes name between them, and 
was afterwards great figurs up along en the town-hall 
to Lunnun church-town. One of the Trenoodles 
were a stickler at this here match, of which there 
used for to be a sketch like cut into the turf at the 
Hoe, but which the Prime Menister allowed to be put 
upon by the Cetadel, when et were built. How- 
somdever et mis-ht be found ag-en ef the Archaeolo- 
gists (I took'd that word from prent) Avould ax the 
Queen to lev some of the buildins and the ramparts 
to be digg'd away, which too wedn't a cost much ef 
the sogers was to help them. Corinaeus, gived Tre- 
noodle as a keepsake, a handsome silver skewer, in 
reward for his services ; with hes coat of arms* 
engraved on et, and a fitty inscription, which caa'nt 

• This shews the bearing of arms to be of much older date than 
is generally supposed. In further proof of this, authentic coats of 
arras of Adam, Shem, Ilain, Japbet, and the three Kings of Cologne, 
Ace. may be sern in some of" the manuscripts in the British Museum. 



now be read ; and the fiimily have kept then* silver 
skewer through weal and woe* ever senco. At 
this here time too he gived us the Barton of 
Trenoodle, which have ben our own fee down to 
this present time ; and we shall be proud to shaw 
the ould plaace weth ets gothic punnion ends, 
and auntient tajpestry and painted winders to any 
straunge antiqueerians. We've also a got a chayney 
wassal boul gived by Corinaeus, which I heerd tell 
were formerly his tea-cup, and there is a piece of 
writen weth et to say that et es curus because it do 
shaw, that one Lady Rowena wern't the first who 
drink'd the wassel. Now our papers don't say much 
for a pure spur after this, untell Jxdius Caesar corned 
as I tell'd afore 'bout the oysters and other things ; 
and then one of the family were Adjutant of the Cor- 
nish militia ; and we still do have hes commission 
weth tne sign manual of the Lord Leftenant or Duke 
of Cornwall of that time, which do seem for all the 
world like as the mark of the four fingers and 
thoomb. En good King Arthui-'s time we was agen 
to work, but we got to writen now more than fightiii ; 
'xcept one as was officer in the Tintagel light horse, 
and so was a paart of the garrison of thickey impreg- 
nable and unaccessible castle. But the head of the 
Trenoodles at this time, were a great poet to the king, 
and ded put ento verse powers of things about him 
and what he did say and do. 

* A cockney iiskrd if this should not be tlirougli ie(i/;inil leun. 


Our auncestor Necholas Trenoodle did go with the 
ambassy from King Edward Confessor to WilHam 
the Conqueror when he were Duke of Cornwall ; and 
his picter do appear in the tapestry up to Bayew 
church-town. We've also a got hes feace 'pon the 
back of an ould armed-cheer, which were worked by 
some young lady of William's court, between whom 
and Necholas our papers do say as there was some 
love passages^ Avhich do mean, I am tould, that they 
keep'd company together, and indeed they was wedded 

When Edward the third comed to be king, he 
gived hes wan-ant for the head of our family for he 
and his heirs to provide night-caps for the Kings of 
Englaad ef so be they comed ento Cornwall ; and he 
also gived he leave to keep hes head cover'd before 
the King, which the Newspapers ded say 'twere 
because he ded have a sore head, but that were a 
stram. In the hubbub made by Perkin Warbeck 
when he made wise the Crown were his, we refused 
to give he a night-cap, and took'd paart with the King- 
In the riots of 1550 howsomdever the husband of one 
of the family were charged Avith having joined the 
rioters (which he hadn't a done) and he were hanged 
with many more of hes comraades by one Sir A. 
Kingston. Hes wife, when she heerd of hes going 
to be took'd to the 'sizes ded think to go for to ax 
hem to be let otf, but she had jist a got a brand new 
French hood, which wa^i tlien the fashons, and spent 


SO long before the glass to make herself look fitty and 
braave, and her opinion were so long suspended as to 
the best coose, that when she corned her husband 
were suspended too. She did afterwards get into 
difficulties herself, because she were heerd say of 
Queen Elizabeth jist about the time that she scared 
away the Spanjards armadillo from her Tilbuiy, that 
her dress w^ere partly ruff, but her temper were 

During the fight with ould Oliver Cromwell, the 
TrenoodleSjlike thegreater paart of the Cornish gentle- 
folks took sides with the King ; " by means whereof/^ 
(as one of our papers do say) they was treated very 
cavalierly by the round-heads Avhen they'd a got the 
upper hand ; but when Charles the second corned 
over, he gived them in reward for their services, 
several large promises, and two small spaniels. 

When I were a boy I Avere put to grammar school, 
and were thoft to be pretty ^cute at book learning 
by my own family. I now amuses myself by col- 
lecting and writing of what they do call fugitive 
pieces, p'raps because no one do seem to care 
much about them ; and then I do write too by way of 
change some things for the many societies I do hear 
of up to Lunnun when they likes for to have tlu^n ; 
and am now a getting forward with what my neybors 
do say goes braave and suant in the w^ay of learning, 
to shaw that the moor-stone posts which es stick'd 
up en so many of the fields in Cornwall was put up 


by the Druids theyselves, and not (as some do say) 
in our times, for the cattle to scratch themselves agen. 
I do think also seriously of writing some works of a 
light and popular sort ; or some of what a friend of 
mine do call, the mysterious, and terrible-horrible 
school, (books of easy virtue) ; or some Cornish tales, 
but though I do find it easy to think about it, yet 
someways I caan^t get beyond my thoughts all to 
once. Well then, says I, thof I bean't yet well 
know'd as a book -WTiter, I've a got the same means 
as other folks. Ef I were to go and sit down, and 
jist write what people do say and do and describe 
things and plaaces as they may be seen any day in 
natm-, and that is all that Scott and Dickens and 
some others do do ; why, says I to myself shouldn't 
I write so well as they. I do hear tell that Dickens 
do put down fine and braave thoughts in fine and 
braave words sure enough ; but ef I were axed why 
I hadn't a done the same, I'm sure then I couldn't 
tell the reason why, though 'fath and sure I havn't 
tried. They do say, that Dickens like Scott is famous 
all over Europe, and that even the Toorks has got a 
plaace they calls " Boz for us." 

Well, I am glad for to prent this here little book, 
because it took'd me up along to Lunnun, where I got 
a fi^icnd to help in the dictsnary and some other paarts. 
I comed up along to Bristol by Steam-boat, which 
were making a nice coose, but I had heerd they was 
bedecked with flags^ which was not the case, as they 


Avas bedecked with, planks. The Great Western road uf) 
to Lunnun were fine and pleasant, I heerd a comraade 
say, 'twere quite matter of raillerij. I were purely 
glad for to see the Queen and Prince Albert and our 
little Duke of Cornwall with 'em. But, we oft not to 
be surprised at having of a good Queen, as we've ben 
waiting a long time for her ; and have ben singing 
to every king for the laast two hundred years — 

'' Send liiin V icloiiis 
]Iappy and glorious 
Long to reign o'er us." 

So lev us " One and all" finish the verse — 
'' God save the Queen." 


Dost thee knaw, Sos, I've ben up to Lunnun church- 
town ? 
A fine passel of things I seed theere to put down. 
Were I sliced ento sUvers so thin as a straw, 
I cud na tell thee haalf the braave things as I saw. 
Why, now, what do'ee thenk ? they've got timberen 

Which es fitty at times, but for quilkins, and toaads ; 
Pure sport for tom-toddies, or a padgitepooe : 
And when et do come, cheel, but a bit of a skew, 
Why the rain et do make em so slippy, and slotter}', 
'Tes no wonder they bosses, do get stogged, or trot 

Then the Cabs as they caalls 'em, keeps pooten about, 
Like an xVngletitch twisten etself en and out. 
And they 'Busses of which then, plase sure, there's a 

Skeyse about like the bilers of ingines en sport. 
Well cheel, as for the shops I were quite en a maze, 
'Fath I ne'er seed sich beauties en all my boom 

There es some with out-wenders as laarge as the 

All prink'd oop so pridy, weth there picters, and 

cloase en. 


And then, ef I ever ! sich fine tummals of cloam, - 
They makes a scat marchant of they spaars up to 

For the maaids thee mays't see too sich nackins and 

And sich apems and coats ; I'd as heve as two 

That my wife bea^nt slocked in thickey notions to see, 
For my fangings wud look scoy and wished ef so be. 
She've jist caal'd me a cropeing timdoodle i'facks, 
'Caase of cuyn I ded gev her less than she ded axe. 
Then plase sure, there's no cause to be creening, or 

Be bedoled weth the rheumatiz, roadling, or puling. 
For there's doctors as pomsters all sorts of diseases : 
Thee art paltcht oop quite braave like whenever thee 

What's the odds, if thee'rt scat all abroad ? 'tes a 


But en few hours vallee, thee'rt flam new, and fitty. 

And then as to their saaves they's got sich a com- 
mand on. 

They cloppinglike corns, ha'nt a foot left to stand on. 

Thee'st be sure that I went for to see they play- 

And they told I they shaw'd some famousest carac- 

I caan't tell'ee the neame, but once there corned en 

A fellor weth breeches and weth coat all of tin. 


Then they caal'd him a goast, and they made wise to 

staart : 
For a buch-a-boo thof he ded seem cruel smaart. 
And a comraade en black weth the shivers were took, 
And he squinnied, tell I were nigh shrimmed weth 

es look ; 
Thrawed es hat on the planchen, and ded kicky 

Then next he comed out, ^* How do'ee fadge royal 

feyther ? 
Why's thee en sich a takeing? tilings doesn't seem 

Says the goast, " Ooncle Clodgy's ben playen the 

He gove me a scat en the chacks for the nonce. 
Then wethout being caal'd out, he ded marry to once 
Your mother ; because why, I were parfectly dead. 
And it were all along of that whap en the head. 
But, I tell'ee what, Sos, dont'ee lev hem alone." 
" Why plase sure then I wain't," said es cheeld with 

a groan ; 
That's es comraade, 'twere Hamlet I mind were es 

And he tarvied about, and sed 'twere a big sheame. 
Well then, down a great shaaft goes the man in latteen. 
As et were the man Ingine, up to Tresavean. 
Then Hamlet hisself did fetch about like one mazed ; 
Drove a maiden, weth whom he keeped company, 

crazed : 


And sent she to Passon, for a nun ef so be, 
'Caase he cudn't afford for to have none of she. 
The young 'oman herself en a pond Avere found dead, 
And the Crowner's 'quest vardict said, she were 

At laast corned ould Ooncle, and a skrimmage and 

strow ; 
And they all thraw'd each other, so ended that show. 
Then a passel of maidens corned en to the pleacc. 
Each so smaart thee caan't think, weth a piu'c 

roagish feace : 
And beginn'd for to skeyce and to fade so friskis. 
Why they seemed to my mind lilce a passel of piskeys. 
But their coats was so short — I'm asheamed — why I 

sees — 
As far — 'es I ded 'fath — auh ! — ([uite up to the knees. 
Sich a guakum were I, that I first turned my feace. 
But were forced to tiu-n back, to make sure 'twere 

the caase. 
And then to be sure 'twere a cruel fine shew ; 
Dont'ee laugh — 'tes the dainicing I means, thee do 

'Fore the parlement mimbers the next day I goes, 
To tell 'pon the rail-roaads, what so be I suppose. 
From St. Joost to the Loggan's one thcc'st may 

Weth a braanch to To! IVdii, and one to Laand's 



What powers of folks sure, there corned in to gaape, 
I were squabb'd 'gen the durnes, I were en a fine 

shaape ; 
Sich pocks and sich touzing, and when I had scrouged 

en, I 
Seed the pleace jist about wern't so laarge as my 

Well, when I fetched en too, sich a scavel and gow 
I ne'er heerd afore sure, why possed oop en a row 
Was a score or some counsellors, all en discoose. 
And a josing, and teai'ing, and making good coose. 
About some'at they was so polrumptuous got, 
Ef haalf sed two Avas two, t'other haalf sed 'twas not. 
Well they argufied then, ef the roaad were but 

There wud be there for sarten, a pure stem of traade, 
And began for to axe of my comraades and T, 
To tell up all they things, we thofl wud be carr'd by. 
All the cotches, the wains, and the butts, all the 

And the gammers, the childer, the bosses, the 

yefFers ; 
And sich mashes of turmits, and tubbans, and turves. 
Fish, poltaties, and straungers, (which laast they 

Will en scools be Uke pilchers,) the scaal milk, and 

Moils, poldaAy, tin-stuff, copper ore, and mabyers. 


With carts, Bal-girls, and gooses, and appuls, and 

Why they ouft to count choughs too and padgetepows. 

Then they thoft et a pity rail-roaads was not maade, 

Thof 'twere not for their fangings they cried up that 

Ef they tried for to slock us, 'twere all for the best. 

And our fortins was maade, ef our cujn we ded 'vest. 

Now I warny that there might be all pure and fitty, 

Ef so be I were to the purvisioned committee ; 

But then, doubting says I, thickey might be the 

'Tes well for to fetch hoam, and lev out from this 

Then they some'at commerced about stags and stag- 

And that ef we was stagg'd 'tAvere for good of the 

But 'twud busy a long score of laayers, I tcirec, 

To rise some of they rail-roaads, to fatch any vallce. 


^TwAS kendle teening when jung Mall Treloare, 
Trudg'd hum fram Bal fram bucking copper ore ; 
Har clathiiig hard and rough, black was har eye, 
Har faace and arms like stuff fram Keryer Kye. 
FuU but she rait jung Saundry Kempe, who long 
She had been token'd to, come fram Ding Dong, 
Hes jacket Avet, hes faace rud like lies beard. 
And thro^ hes squarded hat ees heer appear'd. 
She sed, "Ah! Kempe I thoft of thee well'eer, 
Thee's knaw that daay we wor to Bougee-heere. 
That daay with caakes and ale by three o'clock 
Thee stuft ma sa, I jist e'en crak't ma clock. 
Jue sed to me, thee may'st depend tha life, 
I love thee Mai, and thee shust be ma wife. 
And to ma seeming 'tes good le'ma knaw. 
Whether thy words wor all en jeast or na." 

Saundry. Why, truly Mall, I like a thing ded saay, 
That I wed hav thee next Chewidden daay ; 
But, sence that time, I Uke a thing ded heer, 
Thee wort weth some one down, Mall, I knaw weer ; 
And that as how jue went in theer to drink 
Now, cs that fitty Mally what dost think ? 

Mallij. Od rat thy body, Saundiy, who sed so? 
Now fath and trath, I'll knaw before I go. 


Do le'ma knaw tha Glasseiibury Dog. 

Saundry. AMiy then, CruU scd, juc wor down to 
Wheel bog 
AVeth hem and Tubban, and ded maake some tricks, 
By dabbing claay at jungsters maaking bricks j 
And that fram theer jue went to Afe way ouse. 
And drinkt some lecker, Mall, now that's dow^n souse : 
And that jue to hem like a thing ded saay, 
Jue w ed hav hem and I met go away. 

Malhj. I tell tha Loaber so ! I to Wheel bog ! 
I'll skat es chacks the emprent saucy dog ; 
Now, hire ma Saundiy Kempe, now fath and sole 
Ef tha arn't hastis thee shust hire tha hole. 
Fust jue must knaw 'tes true as thee art theer. 
Ant Blanch and I went to Gulzinny Fear. 
Who ovcrtook't us in tha doosty road. 
In cummin hoam, but Crull, tha clopping toade. 
. Ses him to Ant, " What cheer, then Blanch, what 

cheer ! 
Jue maad good coose, suppoe jue ben to Fear." 
" Why es," saays Ant, " ben theer a pew er spur, 
I wedn't gone ef knaw'd had ben so fur, 
I boft a peer of shoes for Sara's cheeld." 
By this time look we cam jist by tha feeld, 
We went to climber ^pon the timbi*en stile : 
Ha keept es eye tho' 'pon me all the while. 
Sez hem to Ant then, " Who es this bra maid ? 
Cum tha waist along, why dostn't be afraaid. 


Then mur'd my side terrectly like a thing, 

And puU'd ma mantle and ha tucket ma ching. 

" How ar'ry jung umman/' sez a, ^'how dost do ?" 

Sez I, " Jue saucy dog what's that to jue ? 

Pray keepe jure roaade, or else thee's hav a slap." 

Then he footched some grat big doat figs in my lap, 

So then I thoft as a had been so kind, 

A mite go by Ant Blanch, ef 'ad a mind : 

And so a ded, and took't Ant Blanches arm, 

" Areer !" sed hem, " I dedn't thoft no harm." 

So then iVnt Blanch and hem ded talk and jeast, 

'Bout dabbing claay and bricks at PeiTanfeast. 

Saundry. Ah, hah! then Mall, 'twas theer tha 
dabbed tha claay, 

Mally. Please father, Kempe, 'tes true what I do 
saay ; 
And hire ma naw, please sure, a dedn't budge 
From Anty's arm, till jist this side Long brudge. 
And then sez him to Ant, " Shall we go in 
To Afe way ouse, and hav a di'am of gin 
And trecle mix't, depend al do es good, 
Taake up the swet, and set terites the blood." 
So Ant ded saay, sich things she dedn't chuse. 
And squeazed my arm, and like a thing refuse. 
So when we past along by Wheel bog moor, 
A jumpt behind and pack't es into door. 
A call'd for gin, and brandy too I think ; 
He clunk't the brandy, we tha gin ded drink. 


And wen a wished good nlte, as es tha caase, 
A kisst Ant Blanch, and e^sn jist tutch'd my faace. 
Now, Saundn' Kempe, theer's nothing sure in this 
To my mind then, that thee shust take amiss. 

Saundry. No fath then. Mall, ef this cs all and true 
I shud have done the same, ef I was jue. 

Molly. Nex time in eny ouse I see or heer am 
I'll down upon the planching, rat am teer am, 

And will so poam am 

Saundry. Hush now, Mally, hush. 

Our Kepen's theer, es jist by thicky bush. 
And as es heer so close along tha waay, 
I wedn't wish a knaw'd what we do saay. 
But jet I dedn^t care now, fath and sole, 
Ef so be Kepen was to hire tha hole. 
How ar'rj', Kepen, war be going so fast ? 
Jue are dreeving hoam suppose, jue are in sich haste. 
Captain. Whoo's that then, Saundry, art'en thee 
To coosy so agon ? thee west be lilamed 
Ef thee stays heer all nite to prate with Mall. 
When ^tes thy cour, thee west'en com to Ball. 
And thee art a lobba now, I tell tha so, 
ril tell the owners, ef thee duss'en go. 

Saundry. Why, harky, Kepen, doat'ec skoal pon I, 
Tutch pipe a crum, jull knaw tha reason why. 
Cousin Mall and I been courting 'bout afe aeer ; 
Hold up tha head, Mall, don't be shamed, dost heer r 



And Crull one daay maad greef ^twixt I and shee, 
And hem shall smmt for't now I swear by G. 
A toald ma lies so round as eny cup. 
Now Mall and I hav mit we'eve made it up, 
So Kepen that's tha waay I stopt I wow. 

Captain. Ah hah ! I dedn't giss tha cause jest now. 
But, what dost think of that laast stun of ore ? 

Saundry. Why, pewer keenly gossan, Kepen, 
I bleeve that day, ef Franky's peere wom^t drunk. 
We shud have pewer stuff too fram the lump. 
But theer 'tes al good time as people saay, 
The Slockan noAV han't thrown es fur awaay. 
So hope to have bra tummals soon to grass. 
How ded laast batch down to Jandower pass ? 

Captain. Why, hang jer body, Saundry, shud I 
Thee's keep thy clacker going tell 'tes daay. 
Go, speak to Mally now, jue foohsh tooade, 
I wish boath well, and now I'll keep ma rooad. 

Saundry. Good speed 'tye, Kepen, then I wish V 
Mall, weer art a, dussen a hire ma Mall ? 
Don't go awaay, why jue must think of this. 
Afore we part Mall, I must hav a kiss. 
She wiped her muzzle fram the mundic stuflF. 
And he rubb'd his a little stain'd with snufF. 
Now theer, Mall, theer, good nitey. Mall, 'tes right 
To stop a crum. 

Mall. Good nitey, Kempe, good nite. 


Tom. Wher' art a going, cousin Die ? then so 

hastis Cheeld-Yean ? 
Die. Fatching home to ehureh-to^vn. Why I've 

ben into Preen. 
Tom. Hast a trath ! Why, what wast a doing in 

there ? 
Die. Thee mays't giss to the case, and thee know'st 

^tes Preen Fere. 
Tom. No please shore, then, I ded'end ; — ef so be 
I'd a know'n et, 
I'd a streev^d to have sold thicey mare that I've got. 
But deds't fang, any money ? as a body may say. 
Die. Aye ! J fouched the rud gale and whit yeffer 
Sich powerful tumraals of beastes was there. 
One cud gist e'ne scrouge room for 1 o stond in the 
Tom. But what dedst a mfike of tlic yeffer and 

cafe ? 
Die. Wliy I sould them please sliorc for tlirc*^ 
guineas and hafe. 


Tom. Then shore to my seeming, twor money 
But clcst a mit as thee comst arra rud and whit 
Die. Aye I zeed thicky cow thee bofst Friday wor 
For fifty odd shellings, of un Margery Bennet : 
A wor got as 'twor picking about on the nidge, 
Down by uncle Die Lugg's there by Ponds-a-Nooth 
Tom. Tes the crookedest tod. Die, that ever thee 
For she skeses about like a thing that's possess't. 
Die. Take a pretty thick balch, Tom, and make 
her a span ; 
Then leave her jump hedges, as fast as she can. 
Tom. Fath I'll span her, and then if the boundses 
she break, 
I'll go dreeve her to market, and sell her next week. 
But deds't a buy any thing when thee wast in the 
Fere ? 

Die. Arrear, Pattic ! dest think I'm come leary 
from there ? 
In one marchant's shop I bestow'd, to be shore. 
In Poldavy and Linclath five shelling or more ; 
Besides, I've got ferrings and sweetmeats anow, 
Ef so be thee'st amind, thee shust have some to chow: 
Dest a like men with Ame-nuts or zeeds best inside ? 
For a whole hafe a pound I ashore thee I bide. 


Tom. I thank thee — I'll take hafe a dozen, or so. 
But what hast a zeed ? — Tes so good for to know. 

Die. Why, the Mountebag Doctor, as the people 
do cale. 
Got a stonding poss'd up 'genst the market-house 

And the man in the spiccaty jacket was there, 
And a made all the fun of the world in the Fere. 
While another man played on the music so good, 
I war murely ready to daunce w^here I stood. 

Tom. But dest buy any Mountebag's physic or not ? 

Die. Arrear, Pattick ! look here — zee, what tum- 
mal's I've got : 
Here es one for to cure zore legs and zore eyes, 
Thickey there en the bottle cures ev'ry disease, 
This here en the paper cures scaldings and burns, 
Thickey green as a lie, es to dreeve away corns. 

Tom. Shore I bleve they are mighty good med- 
sens as how. 
For I boft some to Trura 'bout three years ago : 
And a cur'd Mally'a leg when a rankled and swelled. 
And the back of the beast that war cruelly galed. 
But ded Merry-man strick up his outlandish games ? 

Die. Aye, a caled the poor Doctor a mashes of 
names ; 
And a made sickcy hul)bub as never was heard, 
About an ould codgar that had a gray beard. 
And as how that a horse once mistook it for hay, 
And had like to have snapt ale the chacks aun away. 


Tom. Tcs as well to go wemma and put home the 
As to stoncl here a houlding a scavel-and-gow. 

Die. I wed go weth a Tom, cud I fittily stay, 
But the old peer of modes hant been water'd to day ; 
This morning I turn'd them ale into the craft. 
May be when 'tes durk they may fale in a shaft. 
Tes cuming ale durkish, or else I wnd stay. 

Tom. Then I wish thee good night, ef thee west go 


Job Mnnglar. Loard ! Uncle Jan Trudle, dost a 

hire the news ? 
How belike we shall stompey in tembreen shoes ? 
For the Franchmen and Spangars be coaming they 

For to carry us ale fram ould Ingland away. 

Jan Triidle. Hould tha toang, tha great Toatledum 

pattick of Ncwlyn 
What becaze the ould wemmen be dwaling and dril- 
And fright'ning one t'other with gobblin and goastes 
And a squaling " Tha Franchmen be got 'pon the 

coastes !" 
Shoar tha beestn'n sich a white liver'd safl-bak'd 

As to think they'll titch ground this'm side of the 

Noa — drat'em ? they weant bring thick noashion to 

While there's bould Cornish curridge to give 'em a 

And trust me, Job Munglar, I'll weage my ould hat ! 
They have too much of slydom to venture 'pon that 


Besides, ef they shud, as a body may saey, 

Dust a think that we'd let em goa deancing aweay? 

Noa. — Fath ! thof I stand here so ould as thy vaa- 

And thee and thy bastards all reckoned togeather ; 
Thof I'm laame in ma click-hand and blind 'pon one 

Yet by gambers ! Jan Trudle would scoarn to fight 

Or stand goggling for gapes like an owl at an eagle. 
Or yewlingjist ain like a Janny Tregeagle ! 
Noa — dust hire ma ! Job Munglai', cheeld vean ! 

dest a hire ? 
There's noa mortal can saey I'm afeard to stand fire : 
And thee knast et for sartin as how and so be, 
When the marchants w or sheppin the bearley dest see, 
And we run'd off to Padsta, to nack their piirceedings, 
Ded I mind the riat-act-man and es readings ? 
Noa — I caal'd out the hubbar — soa hard as I cud, 
And cried, stand to et boys for bearley or blood ! 
And when ale the soadgers ded loady their guns, 
I made tha pui'poashals to doust 'am Aveth stoans. 
Soa we cobb'd et awaey jist like lyants and tygars. 
Till we made 'am at laste fale a snapping the trigars ; 
And drat ma ! Job Munglar ! I'm bould for to saey. 
That I stav'd down three rud coats so dead as a 

But I scorn to stand speeching braggashans and soa. 
As all round the Bal here do veiT well knoaw. 


Yet in caze, ef so be, as the Papishes coame, 
For to rouse us ale out fram our houzen and lioam, 
I'll be cut up in slivers for meat for the croaws, 
Ef I doant slam this tamlyn souse into their joaws. 
Thof I've been ever sense that I noozlcd the nepple, 
Durk as pitch a won side, and a hafe of a crapple. 
Yet I^^e heart's-blood enow ef we chance to fale too't. 
For to murder five Franch and a Spangar to boot ! 
But et es noa moar likely to coara unto pass. 
Than thick moyle to fale taalking like Balaamses 

ass ! 
Joh. Well ! that macy be thickey suppoashals of 

But fath ! 'tes noa mazedish condudle of mine ! 
Noa — soa sartin as thickey there plaace es Kearn 

The Franchmen be coaming to car us awaey ; 
They've five hundred great ships, and a mashes of 

And sick powars of cannans, as never was sen ! 
But the worstests of ale (ses a man cum'd fram 

They^ve swar'd to burn ale from Tol Pedn to Pli- 

muth ; 
And to force ale the people boath Christians and 

For to live upon quilkins and pagatepooes ; 
And moar too than thickey, they'll hitch in a roap 
Every soual that wcan't pray to the Dcvel and Poap ! 

c 2 


Thoaf I bean't quite soa rich like in cu}ti as a squire, 
Yet I've some lettle cobshans/Jau Trudle, dest hire ? 
Soa, for doubting cheeld, lookey ! I've steev'd at oak 

And fast bind et, fast find et, wean't do one noa harm. 
Soa for doubting cheeld vean ! (as I toidd tliee afoar) 
I've a squadg'd et down ninety good fathums and 

In a drang, where Ould Scratch, ef ha ever inchn'd et, 
Might sclau ale es claws off, afoar he wud find et. 
For the outlandish Pagans in caze they do landey ; 
Will go drifting for cuyn like excise-men for brandy ; 
But ef ever they smill out the pleace where I've 

poat et. 
May my corps like a pelchard be salted and goated ! 
Jan. Why thin zounds ! let am coam, ef so be 

they've a mind ! 
Thee hast shanks for to skeyce with the fardle be- 
Thee mayest scamp with the wemmen and cheldren, 

thee goose ! 
And the oather gret gaukums that take the same coose : 
But let all the big thunderbolts up in the clouds 
Tumble down 'pon my body and squat am to 

May I broyl like grain-tin en a blowing-houze fire, 
'Tell I'm rud as the smith makes the pieces of ire ; 

I wecn'tbes hu t ded afoar any soup-meagar 
Shall slavify me like a blackey moor negai'. 


And make me eat quilkins and pagetepooes. 

And woorship the Devel, and wear 'oaden shoes ! 

Noa, fath ! by the spirit and soal of my body, 

Pd rather be toarn'd to a hoddyraandoddy ! 

Doan't stand tha great kitterpooch ! chowing tha 

For they'll get a mayn dousting whenever they coam ! 



As Tom was a walking one fine summer's mom. 
When the dazies and goldcups the fields did adorn ; 
He met cozen Mai, with the tub on her head. 
SaysTom, "Cosen Mai, thee might speak if you we'd." 

But Mai, stamp'd along, and appear'd to be shy ; 
And Tom sing'd out, " Zounds, I'll knaw of thee why.'' 
So back he tore a'ter in terrible fuss. 
And ask'd cozen Mai, " What's the reason of thus ?" 


" Tom Trelore," cried out Mai, " I'll nothing do wi'ee, 
Go to Fanny Trembath, she do knaw how I'm shy : 
Tom there's here t'other daa, down the hill thou didst 

And dab'd a great doat fig in Fan Trembaa's lap." 


"Why Mai, cozen Mai," cried Trelore, " 'tes a shaame, 
Thee we'st leave me, and crj^ Hke I'd ca'ald thee bad 

But, blame me, I'd heave thee stam bang in the detch, 
Ef the roads wain't so slottery, thee stramming young 




" As for Fanny Trembaa, I ne'er talk'd with her twice, 
And giv'd her a doat fig they sure ai*e so nice ! 
So, I'll tell thee, I went to the Fear t'other day. 
And the doat figs I boft, I saved them away." 

Says Mai, " Tom Trelore, ef that be the caase. 
May the Lord bless for ever thy sweet pretty faace, 
Ef thee'st give me thy doat figs thee'st boft in the 

I'le swear to thee now, thee shu'st marry me here." 


Jan Knuckey were a miner bould 

As ever was to Bal, 
And cruel good cu'd wrastle too 

And thraw a tidy fall. 

When prinkM too en es Soonda^ cloase 

He braave and proper seem'd, 
At Church too the base \'iol scraaped 

Until the great crowd scream'd. 

Now, up aloiig- to Church-town lived 

A fine and thoomping daame 
She were pure stout, as were her poorse, 

Aunt Graacey were her naame. 

Now Graacey had for many years 

A little shop like keep'd 
Where things for ould and childer too 

Promiskusly was keep'd. 

Tea, doat figs, and polda\'y too 
Cloam buzzas on the planching, 

Scaal'd cream, and crocks, and coajer's end. 
And apples ripe for scranching. 


'Baccy, with cowals for the chowters, 

Saalt pilchers, and some 'tatics, 
Eggs, cUdgy, traadc!, and hoganbags, 

Gowks, sparables, and lattice. 

Aunt Graacey had some mabjers too, 

A pig's-crow and a midden. 
And sometimes sould a fine fat fowl. 

Sometimes the piggy-whidden. 

Some cobshans she'd a saaved away ; 

Jan hadn't a got none ; 
Yet, thof she were a titch too ould. 

He thoft they might be one. 

But Graacey were a keen chap too. 

She were no drumbledrane ; 
And weth her fangings or herself. 

To part she dedn't a meane. 

Well Jan, he fetch'd es coorse one day 

To tell es mind to Graace, 
But when he got un ento doors 

She were not en the plaace. 

A kicklish fuss he hcerd up stairs, 

And soon 'caase why he knew. 
The seeling being deef was scat 

And Graace fell halfway through. 


" What am I best to do }" says Jan, 

" She es no pcdn-paly ; 
She caan't scrouge through, she'll sure be squabbM, 

She do make bad coose raally/' 

At last she squeedg'd and pooted through, 

Flopt on the taable there, 
And over-thraw'd as she fall'd down 

A hepping-stock and cheer. 

The cream were scud, the pilchers squash'd, 

Some 'taties were mash'd quite, 
Jan 'gen the winder joomp'd back mazed 

And crazed a squeer outright. 

At length she sot herself to rights 

And made the plaace look fitty, 
'Twere plase siu'e en a cruel shaape, 

Et raally were a pity. 

Then Knuckey rubb'd es hat all round. 

And squinnied on the flure, 
Next thraVd es eyes about the shop. 

And then agen the doore. 

" Arrear ! Aunt Graace, how ar'ee then ? 

I wish thee bean't abruis'd. 
Thee down along ded'st come to shop 

By roaad that esn't used. 


" ^Tes boostering work, to make good coose, 

Weth shanks on nothins dancing 
I thoft the punnion-end were in, 

When thee pooted through the planching." 

" Now, hould tha tongue, thee lutter-pouch, 

I^m quite bedoled and frighted ; 
I knock'd ma cheens agen the scoanse,'^ 

Says Grace, " when I alighted/' 

Says Jan, '^ It were an awkward cant. 

But don't be creening pray ; 
And lev us quat while thee dost hear 

What I've a got to say : 

" That there is this, I do'ee love. 

When shall us be axed out ? 
Lev you and I keep company — " 

Graace giv'd un then a clout. 

" Thee mazedish moile ! thee dreuling dog 

Thee quilkin ! thee timdoodle ! 
I be axed out ! keep company ! 

Get thee to doors, thee noodle. 

" Thee lobbar, thee art totling 'fath, 

Sich imperance I ne'er seed ; 
What, give my cobshans up to thee ! 

Be Mistress Jan endeed !" 


" Auh ! skid the wheel/' than Jan ded cry, 

" And dont'ee drive so forthy, 
Lev's screedle o'er the fire a bit, 

I knaw thee'st find me worthy. 

*' Now lev us have no fussing more 

And doant'ee tak't amiss 
Ef that I ax before we parts 

A little crura of kiss." 

But Graacey's bristles now was up, 

She scat and poot by turns, 
Then cotch'd un by the scuff of's neck 

And footched un through the durnes. 

The coose of love et hav been said 

Do seldom suant run, 
Ef en soome caases et may be 

Jan Knuckey's wasn't one. 


Gracey. 'Fath and trath then I bleeve in ten 
parishes round, 
Sich a roag, sich a vellan es not to be found. 

Mally. What's the fussing, An Gracey, long weth 

a cheel vean ? 
Gracey. A fussing aketha, od splet es ould breen. 
Our Martin's come hum, cheeld, so drunk as a baist, 
And so cross as the gallish from Perranzan Veast, 
A cum in a totterin, a cussing, and swcering, 
So hard as the Stompses a tarving and teering. 
Mally. Never mind it. An Gracey, you poat 'un 
to bed, 
A'l sleap all the likur away from es head. 

Gracey. Pd not go anes en to gat the King's 
For a swcers ef I spake to en, a'l clave ma skull 

That never in all tha boarn days, fath and shore, 
Did'st behold sich a maze Jerry Pattick afore. 
Why he scat all to midjans and jouds for the noanse 
A cloam buzza of seal milk, about in the coansc. 



And snatch'd up a shoul, for to stave ma ought rite, 

But I'm run'd away, reddy to fainty for frite. 

Loard ! tell ma. An Mally, what shall I do by un. 

For Downtikens death, I'm afeard to come nigh un. 
Mally. I knaw what I'd gie un, ef so be 'twas 
my case, 

I'd scat the ould chacks o'n, I'd trem un. An Grace. 
Gracey. I'm afeard o' my life to cum ny the ould 

Else, plase Father, I bleeve, I shud parfetly kill un. 

But, I'll never no more be so baled and abused. 

My heep here like bazzom, the roag hath abniised. 

I made for his supper, a muggety pye. 

But a sha'nt clunk a croom on't, I wesh I ma die. 
Mally. Ay, I tould tha before the job was adone. 

That tha'd'st cum to repent on't so shoar as a gun. 

But thu'dn'st hark to ma, nat douting for why. 

That besure that tha knowd'st un much better 
than I. 

But I know'd the good trem an before thou'st a goat 

I'd ha tould tha of mashes of storeys about un ; 

But tha answerd'st so to}i;ish and scrinkt up thy 

A gissing 'twas great straming lies I suppose. 

But there's one of es pranks I shall always re- 

'Twill be three years ago, cum the aighth of No- 


I'd two pratty young mabjers as eye cud behold, 
So fat as the buter, jist nineteen weeks ould ; 
They were peeking about in the town-place for meat, 
So I hove down some pellas amongst 'em to eat ; 
When, who but your man com a tott'ring along. 
So drunk that I thofl fath, he'd fall in the doong. 
A let tumble hes hoggan bag jist by the dour, 
So I cal'd to the man, as one woud to be shoar. 
Says I, " Martin, dost hire, chcel, tak up tha bag." 
" Area," says a, " for what art a caleing me dog ?" 
And run'd forth towards ma, nar better nar warsc, 
Nack't the mabjers both stiff we' a great maur of 

Like enow ef I hadn't goat hastys away, 
A'd ha dun as a ded weth Jan kous t'other deay. 
When a goat en es tantrums, a ^\ilful ould devil, 
And slamm'd the poor man in the head we' a kibbell. 
'Fath and soul then, An Gracey, ef so be a don't 

I beleeve en ma conshance, a'U poot in a haleter. 
Gracey. Whin tha cyder es rim'd away every 

'Tes too late to bethink one of stapping the tap. 

And man-age must go on as God doth ordane ; 

But a parson woud swear to be used so, cheel vean, 

Had I found out the coose on, but nine weaks ago? 

I'd never a had tha ould villan a know. 

But a vowed and a swore that ef I'd be his wife. 

That I never shud want all the days of es life ; 


And broft me a nackin and corn saive from Preen, 
In ma conshance thoft I , I shall live like a queen. 
But ^tes plaguy purvoking, ods burn es ould head, 
To be pootcd and flopt so, I wesh a was dead. 
Why a spent all hes fanging laste Saturda nite : 
Like enow by this time, tes gone every dite. 
But I'll tame the ould devil, afore it es long, 
Ef I can't we ma veist-es, I will we' ma tongue. 


Here's a health to the baarley mow, my braave boys, 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 
We'll drenk et out of the jolly brown boul, 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 


Here's a health to the baarley mow, my braave boysj 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

We'll drenk it out of the nepperkin, boys. 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 
The nepperkin, and the jolly brown boul. 


Here's a health to the baarley mow, my braave boys. 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

We'll drenk et out of the quaarter pint, boys, 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

Tlie quaarter pint, nepperkin, and the jolly brown 

Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk ct out of the haalf a i)int, boys. 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 


The haalf a pint, quaarter pint, nepperkin, and the 

jolly brown boul. 
Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll di-enk et out of the pint, my braave boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The pint, the haalf a pint, quaarter pint, nepperkin, 

and the jolly brown boul. 
Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'U drenk et out of the quaart, my braave boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The quaart, the pint, the haalf a pint, quarter pint, 

nepperkin, and the jolly brown boul. 
Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk et out of the pottle, my boj'S, 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The pottle, the quaart, the pint, the haalf a pint, 

quaarter pint, nepperkin, and the jolly brown 

Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk et out of the gallon, my boys, 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The gallon, the pottle, the quaart, the pint, the haalf 

a pint, quaai-ter pint, nepperkin, and the jolly 

brown boul. 
Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 


We'll drenk ct out of the haalf ainker, boys, 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The haalf ainker, gallon, the pottle, the quaart, the 

pint, the haalf a pint, quaarter pint, nepperkin, 

and the jolly brown boul. 
Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk et out of the ainker, my boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The ainker, the haalf ainker, gallon, the pottle, the 
quaart, the pint, the haalf a pint, quaai'ter pint, 
nepperkin, and the jolly brown boul. 

Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk et out of the haalf hoosghead, boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The haalf hoosghead, ainker, the haalf ainker, gallon, 
the pottle, the quaart, the pint, the haalf a pint, 
quaarter pint, nepperkin, and the jolly brown 

Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk et out of the hoosghead, my boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The hoosghead, the haalf hoosghead, ainker, the 
haalf ainker, gallon, the pottle, the (piaart, the 
pint, the haalf a pint, quaarter pint, nepperkin, 
and the jolly brown boul. 

Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 



"VS'e'll drcnk et out of the well, my braave boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The well, the hoosghead, the haalf hoosghead, ainker, 
the haalf ainker, gallon, the pottle, the quaart, 
the pint, the haalf a pint, quaarter pint, nepper- 
kin, and the jolly brown boul. 

Here's a health, &c. (Chorus.) 

We'll drenk et out of the rever, my boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The rever, the well, the hoosghead, the haalf hoosg- 
head, ainker, the haalf ainker, gallon, the pottle, 
the quaart, the pint, the haalf a pint, quaarter 
pint, nepperkin, and the jolly brown boul. 

Here's a health, &c. (Choinis.) 

We'll drenk et out of the ocean, my boys. 

Here's a health to the baarley mow. 

The ocean, the rever, the Avell, the hoosghead, the 
haalf hoosghead, ainker, the haalf ainker, gallon, 
the pottle, the quaart, the pint, the haalf a pint, 
quaarter pint, nepperkin, and the jolly brown 


Here's a health to the baarley mow, my braave boys. 
Here's a health to the baarley mow. 


Ax ould man found, one day, a yung gentleman^s 
portmantle, as he were a going to es dennar; he 
took'd et en and gived et to es wife, and said : 
" Mally, here^s a roul of hther, look, see, I suppoase 
some poor ould shoe-maker or other have los'en, tak'en 
and put'en a top of the teaster of tha bed, he'll be 
glad to hab'en agcn sum day, I dear say." The ould 
man, Jan, that was es neame, went to es work as 
before. Mally then open'd the portmantle, and 
found en et three hunderd pounds. Soon after thes, 
the ould man not being very well, Mally said : " Jan, 
Pave saaved away a little money, by the bye, and as 
thee caan't read or write, thee shu'st go to scool:" (he 
were then nigh threescore and ten). lie went but a 
very short time, and corned hoam one day, and said : 
" Mally, I wain't go to scool no more, 'caase the 
childcr do be laffen at me, they can tell their letters, 
and I caan't tell my A. B. C, and I wud rayther go 
to work agen." " Do as thee wool," ses Mally. Jan 
had not ben out many days, afore the yung 
gentleman came by. that lost the portmantle, and 
said, " Well, my ould man, did'ee see or hear tell of 
sich a thing as a portmantle ?" " Portmantle, Sar, 
was't that un, sumthing Hkc thickey ?" (pointing to 


one behind es saddle). " 1 found one the t'other day 
zackly like that.'' " Where es et ?'' " Come along, 
I carr'd'en en and gov'en to my wife Mally, thee 
sha't av'en. Mally, where es that roul of Uther that 
I giv'd tha the t'other day ?" " What roul of lither ?" 
said Mally. " The roul of lither I broft en and tould 
tha to put'en a top of the teaster of the bed, afore I 
go'd to scool." " 'Drat tha emperance," said the 
gentleman, " thee art betwattled, that was before I 
were born." 


I WERE oop to cozen Nic Carnoweth's laast New 
Year's Eve. and ef so be thee do wesh, thee shu'st 
knaw ttie whole coose of et. We'd a fine denar sure 
enough ; a few broth, a couple of as nice ploffy yung 
mabjers as one wed wesh to put a knife en, a starry- 
gazy pie, and a thoomping figgy pudden ; and aafter 
that a little coostom. — And so we discoosed away 
quite comfortable like about the Chrestmas stock 
oontell the evenen when some more neybors corned 
among us soon after teening time, and we was a braave 
coompany ; and then us had soome heavy caake and 
scaal cream and fogans. Well, ^\ hen we was well 
glut, and we'd a nigh crack'd our craws we thoft we 
wed have some make-games and sich hke, but afore 
we cu'd git no further in thickey theere notions, there 
comed en a grinning gaukum, and tould us as how a 
giz-daunce was to door Avith the auntient ])lay of St. 
George, so as I niver had seen sich condudles afore 1 
gived my censure for they, thof cozen Nic wed have 
strove me down agen them, but we lev'd he alone 
and dedn't mind un. So in they comed, and we made 
hoam the door to stop out any of they straange chaps 
who was a scrouging en ; and then the shaw begin'd 
en a jeffy. There was ould Fcytlicr Chrestmas, a 


funny ould codger, weth a make-wise feace possed on 
top of his aun, and es long white wig, trapesing about 
and getting en es tantrums, like for to make thee splet 
tha sides ; and there were the doctor as they caal'd 
un with a three-corner piked hat, and es feace all 
rudded and whited, with spurticles on top of es nawse 
And there was one en a maiden's bed-gound and 
coats with ribands, and a nackin en es hand and a 
gowk, and the other yungsters was en white weth 
ribands tied all upon their shirt sleeves with nackins 
and swords and sich caps as I niver seed. They was 
half a fathom high maade of pastyboord, weth powers 
of beads and loaking glass, and other noshions, and 
shrids of ould cloth stringed 'pon slivers of pith hang- 
ing down — so, they strutted about so braave and 
rumbustious as lubber-cocks. And then they gived 
the word to begin, and ould Feyther Chrestmas 
stepped out, and said — 

'' Here comes I, ould Feyther Clirestmaa, 
Welcome or welcome not, 
I do hope ould Feyther Chrestmas, 
Will never be forgot. 

I am not a corned here, for to laugh or to jeer, 

But for a pocket-full of money, and a skin-full of beer; 

Ef you will not beleeve what I do say, 

Come en the bould Toorkish Knight — clear the way." 

The ould gaffer then scrambled oop and down the 
room, shaAving a curius figur, and when he'd a tarvied 


about so as to make enough sj)ort, in conied the 
Toorkish Knight, and said, — 

" Here comes I, a Toorkish Knijjht, 
Corned from tlie Toorkish land to fijjht; 
And ef Saint George do meet me liore, 
I'll try es courage wethout fear." 

Then a yungster corned out very forthy, " Here 
come I, St. George." Anan ! says I, none of thy 
doodHng, thee bean't St. George, no more than me ; 
as ef I deduct knaw thee wast Jan Trchibbas down to 
Nancegibbie croft. St. George akctha ! why I do 
knaw all the havage of thee, thee crazed hoddyman- 
doddy, for all tha braave cloase. Iloosh ! says my 
cozen, what^s the odds, dont'ee knaw 'tes aunly play- 
acting like, making wise as a body may say. Auh ! 
says I to he, that's of et es et, well lev he be St. 
George then in coose ; so away to go agen. — 

" Here comes I, St. George, that worthy champion hould, 
And weth my swoord and spear, 1 winn'd three crouns of gould. 
I fout the dragon bould, and broft un to tlie slaughter, 
By that I gain'd fair Sabra, the King of Egypt's daughter." 

Then the Toorkish Knight stepped nj) to he. and 
said — 

" St. George I pray be not too hould, 

Ef thy blood be hot I'll soon make et could." 

And St. George ded answer he, 

"Thou Toorkish Knight I i>ray forbear, 

I'll make thee dread my swoord and spear." 


Then they goes to fight, and tears away like the 
Stampses, and the Toorkish knight do fall upon the 
planchen, and do try to get up, but St. George do stank 
upon em and Avain^t lev him to, when he do seem 
afeard and do say, 

" Oh ! pardon me St. George, oh I pardon me I crave, 
Oh ! pardon me thes once, and I well be thy slave." 

St. George do answer— 

" I'll never pardon a Toorkish Knight, 
Therefore arise and try thy might." 

Then he do immedjantly get up, and away they cuts 
life for life, untell the Knight do receive sich a whap, 
that he do fall dead. St. George ded cry out as ef 
mazed ; 

" Es there a Doctor to be found 
To cure a deep and deadly wound?" 

And the Doctor corned forward as ef to pomster the 
dead Toork — 

*' Auh ! yes there es a Doctor to be found, 
To cure a deep and deadly wound." 

" What can'ee cure ?" says ould Feyther Chrestmas. 

" All sorts of diseases, 

Whatever theee pleases ; 

The itch, the palsy, and the gout, 

Ef the deuce es en him, I'll pull en out." 

" And what is thy fee }" 

" Fefteen pound et es my fee. 

The money to lay down ; 
But as 'tes sich a roag as he 

I'll cure en for ten pound. 


I do carr a little bottle of alitumpane 
Here Jack, take a lettle of my flip-flap, 
Pour et down thy tip-top, 

Rise up and fight agon." 

So the Doctor ded ciu'e he, and away to fight agen, 
but St. George were too much for he, and kill'd iin 
as dead as a saalt pilcher and ded cry — 

" Here comes I, St. George, from Britain I ded sj)ring, 
I'll fight the Dragon hould, my wonders to bpgin : 
I'll clip es wings that he shain't fly, 
I'll cut un down or else I die." 

Then forth corned the Dragon — 

" Who es he that do seek the Dragon's bloud, 
And do call so angry, and so loud ? 
That English dog, well he before me stand ? 
I'll cut un down weth my bould hand 
VV'eth my long teeth, and scurvy jaw, 
I'll seize un up wethin my maw, 
Of sich I'd break up hafe a score. 
And stay my stomach, tell I'd more." 

Then they fights, tell the Dragon es thraw'd, and the 
Doctor do come agen, and they discoos as they tied 
afore, and jist after I seed one step out, as they 
caal'd the King of Egypt's daughter, hut 1 knawM 
he, so I said, Nan ! nan ! I caan't lev thes quiet, I 
am better speak please sure, it ain't fitty to have sicli 
strams, I am better not hould my tongue no longer. 
What ! call he a maiden, why, I do knaw he for a 
huddle boy up along to Bal. — Now do'ee be (juict, 


Sose, says cozen Nic, titch pipe a few, why I tell'ee 
he be aunly a maiden for the nonce, do'ee be quiet 
thee assneger, or thee'st be turned to doors. Auh ! 
well, says I, a fine passel of toatledum patticks they 
be sure enough, lev them make heaste on — and St. 
George said — 

" Gentlemen and ladies, the sport is almost ended, 
Come pay to the box, et es highly commended ; 
The box et wud speak ef et had but a tongue, 
Come thraw en your money and thenk et no wrong." 

So we giv'd them some cuyn ^caase they shudn't go 
away leary, and they sing'd a song weth a daance, 
and off they trampses, and us to our geames agen. 
At supper we'd a got squab pie and mashes of ^taties 
and pilcliers, and then some curll singing, and finished 
weth Tom Toddy, where one do take oop es cup of 
licker, and do put ento et a piece of candle lighted, 
and his comraades do sing, 

" Tom Toddy es come hoam, come hoam, 
Tom Toddy es come hoam, 
Weth es eyes burnt, and es nawse burnt, 

and es eye-lids burnt also. 
Tom Toddy es come hoam, come hoam, 
Tom Toddy es come hoam." 

And he do try and drenk up es licker en the mean 
time and depend on't ^tes pm*e sport to see how the 
candle do flop agen es feace, and nawse, as et be so 
kickhsh; and et made me quite timersome, and I 
thoft I shu'd have clunk't candle and all when it 


corned to me, and were en a cruel taking. Well then 
we said good night'ee, and when we got to door, wc 
thoft there had ben lashes of rain, but it were but a 
skew; how so be et maade the roaad all sloshy and 
slottery, and as my coorse were up Clodgy laane, 1 
were en a pretty shaape when I fetched lioam ; and 
were glad to put ma head 'pon the ])ellowe here, 'ees 
fye I were : but I've ben a bit hoozy sence. And Aunt 
Betty had a ben too forthey en teeming out her licker, 
and p'raps were a little boosy, and she were found 
'pon the sea shoare, laid down as ef she were to bed, 
and the water were corned oop to her fcace and Hop- 
ping agen et, and she were a saying (juite genteely 
like, " Nat a drap more, nat a drap more, thankct-."" 



Robin Hood and Little John, 

They both are gone to Fair, O, 
And we will go to the merry green wood 

To see what they do there, O 
And for to chase, O, 
To chase the buck and doe. 
With Halantow, 
Rumbelow ! 
For we were up as soon as any day, O, 

And for to fetch the Summer home. 
The Summer, and the May, O, 

For Summer is a-come, O, 

And Winter is agone, O ! 

Where are those Spaniards, 

That make so great a boast, O ? 

They shall eat the grey goose feather. 
And we will eat the roast, O ; 

In every land, O, 

The land, where'er we go. 
With Halantow, &c. 


As for St. George, O, 

Saint George, he was a Knight, O ! 
Of all the Knights in Christendom, 

Saint Georgy is the right, O ! 
In every land, O, 
The land wherever we go. 

With rialantow, &c. 

God bless Aunt Mary Moses, 

And all her powers and might, O, 

And send us peace in merry England, 
Both day and night, O, 

And send us peace in merry England, 

Both now and evermore, O ! 
With Ilalantow, &c. 





A GOOD sword and a trusty hand, 

A merry heart and true ; 
Kins: James's men shall understand 

What Cornish men can do. 

And have they fix'd the Where and When, 

And shall Trelawny die ? 
Then twenty thousand Cornish men 

Will know the reason why ! 

Out spake the Captain brave and bold, 

A meiTy wight was he, 
Tho' London Tower were Michael's hold, 

W^e'd set Trelawny free ! 

W^e'U cross the Tamar, land to land. 

The Severn is no stay ; 
And side by side, and hand in hand 

And who shall bid us nav ! 

SONG. 63 

And when we come to London Wall, 

A pleasant sight to view, 
Come forth ! come forth ! ye cowards all ; 

Here are better men than you. 

Trelawny he's in keep and hold : 

Trelawny he may die ! — 
But twenty thousand Cornish bold 

Will know " The reason why." 


In name, in shape, in quality, 

This well is very quaint ; 
The name, to lot of Kayne befell, 

No ouer-holy Saint. 

The shape, 4 trees of diners kinde, 
Withy, Oke, Elme and Ash, 

Make with their roots an arched roofe. 
Whose floore this spring doth wash. 

The quality, that man or wife. 
Whose chance, or choice attaines. 

First of this sacred streame to drinke. 
Thereby the mastry gaines. 


A WELL there is in the west country, 
And a clearer one never was seen ; 

There is not a wife in the west country, 
But has heard of the well of St. Keyne. 

An oak and an elm tree stand beside. 
And behind does an ash tree grow. 

And a willow from the banks above, 
Droops to the waters below. 

A traveller came to the well of St. Keyne, 

Pleasant it was to his eye ; 
For from cock-crow he had been travelling, 

And there was not a cloud in the sky. 

He drank of the water so cool and clear, 

For thirsty and hot was he. 
And he sat down upon the bank. 

Under the willow tree. 

There came a man fi-oni the neighbouring town. 

At the well to fill his pail. 
On the well side he rested it, 

And bade the stran";cr hail. 



" Now art thou a bachelor, stranger }" quoth he : 

" For an if thou hast a wife, 
The happiest draught thou hast drank this day. 

That ever thou didst in thy hfe. 

" Or has your good woman, if one you have, 

In Cornwall ever been ? 
For an if she have, 1^11 venture my life. 

She has drunk of the well of St. Keyne/' 

" I have left a good woman who never was here ;'* 

The stranger he made reply, 
" But that my draught should be better for that, 

I pray you answer me why/* 

" St. Keyne," quoth the countryman, ''many a time. 

Drank of this crystal well. 
And before the angel summoned her. 

She laid on the water a spell. 

" If the husband of this gifted Avell, 

Shall drink before his Avife, 
A happy man thenceforth is he, 

For he shall be master for life." 

" But if the wife should drink of it first, 

God bless the husband then." 
The stranger stooped to the Well of St. Keyne, 

And drank of the waters again. 


" You di'ank of the well, I warrrant, betimes," 

He to the countryman said, 
But the countryman smiled as the stranger spake, 

And sheepishly shook his head. 

" I hastened as soon as the wedding was done. 

And left my wife in the porch. 
But i'faith she had been wiser than me. 

For she took a bottle to church." 


As it fell on a holy day, 

And upon a holytide a : 
John Doiy brought him an ambling nag, 

To Paris for to ride a. 

And when John Doiy to Paris was come, 

A little before the gate a ; 
John Dory was fitted, the porter was witted. 

To let him in thereat a. 

The first man that John Dory did meet , 
Was good King John of France a ; 

John Dory could well of his courtesie, 
But fell down in a trance a. 

A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king. 
For my merry men and for me a : 

And all the churls in merry England 
I'll bring them bound to thee a. 

And Nichol was then a Cornish man 

A little beside Bohyde a ; 
He manned him forth a goodly bark, 

With fifty good oars of a side a. 


Run up, my boy, into the main top, 

And look what thy cans't spy a • 
Who, ho ! who, ho ! a good ship do I see, 

I trow it be John Doiy a. 

They hoist their sails both top and top. 

The mizen and all was tried a. 
And every man stood to his lot. 

Whatever should betide a. 

The roaring cannons then were plied. 
And dub-a-dub went the drum a : 

The braying trumpets loud they cried. 
To courage both all and some a. 

The grappling hooks were brought at length. 

The brown bUl and the sword a : 
John Doiy at length, for all his strength. 

Was clapt fast under board a. 




The facts upon which this Ballad is founded, may be seen in ''The 
British History, translated into English from the La .in of Jeffrey of 
JMonmouth ; by Aai'on Thompson, Oxon. 1718, 8vo. p. 42." Among 
the Plays falsely attributed to Shakespeare, is one upon the same 

When Humber in his wrathful rage 
King Albanact in field had slain, 

Whose bloody broils for to assuage. 
King Locrin then appUed his pain ; 

And with a host of Britons stout, 

At length he found king Humber out : 

At vantage great he met him then. 
And with his host beset him so. 

That he destroyed his warlike men. 
And Number's power did overthrow; 

And Humber, which for fear did fly, 

Leapt into a river desp'rately ; 


And being drowned in the deep. 

He left a lady their alive, 
Which sadly did lament and weep, 

For fear they should her life deprive. 
But by her face that was so fliir, 
Tlic king was caught in Cupid's snare : 

He took this lady to his love, 

Who secretly did keep it still; 
So that the queen did quickly prove. 

The king chd bear her most good will : 
Which though by wedlock late begiui, 
He had by her a gallant son. 

Queen Guendolin was griev'd in mind, 

To see the king was alter'd so : 
At length the cause she chanc'd to find, 

Which brought her to much bitter woe. 
For Estrild was his joy (God wot), 
By whom a daughter he begot. 

The Duke of Cornwall being dead. 

The father of that gallant queen : 
The king with lust being overlaid, 

His lawful wife he cast off clean : 
Who with her dear and tender son, 
For succour did to Cornwall run. 


Then Locrin crowned Estrild bright, 
And made of her his lawful wife : 

With her which was his heart's delight. 
He sweetly thought to lead his life. 

Thus Guendolin, as one forlorn. 

Did hold her wretched hfe in scorn. 

But when the Cornish men did know 
The great abuse she did endure, 

With her a number great did go, 
Which she by prayer did procure. 

In battle then they marched along, 

For to redress this grievous wrong. 

And near a river called Store, 

The king with all his host she met ; 

Where both the armies fought full sore. 
But yet the queen the field did get : 

Yet ere they did the conquest gain. 

The king was with an arrow slain. 

Then Guendolin did take in hand. 
Until her son was come to age. 

The government of all the land ; 
But first her fuiy to assauge. 

She did command her soldiers wild. 

To drown both Estrild and her child. 


Incontinent then they did bring 

Fair Estrild to the river-side, 
And Sabrine, daughter to a king, 

Whom GnendoHn coukl not abide ; 
Who being bound together fast, 
Into the river there were cast : 

And ever since that running stream 
Wherein the ladies drowned were. 

Is called Severn through the realm, 
Because that Sabrine died there. 

Thus those that did to lewdness bend, 

Were brought unto a woful end. 



Of a stout cripple that kept the high-way, 
And begg'd for his Uving all time of the day, ~ 
A story I'll tell you that pleasant shall be. 
The Cripple of Cornwall surnamed was he. 

He crept on his hands and his knees up and down. 

In a torn jacket and a ragged torn gown, 

For he had never a leg to the knee. 

The Cripple of Cornwall surnamed was he. 

He was of a stomach courageous and stout. 
For he had no cause to complain of the gout ; 
To go upon stilts most cunning was he, 
With a staff on his neck most gallant to see. 

Yea, no good fellowship would he forsake. 
Were it in secret a horse for to take, 
His stool he kept close in an hollow tree. 
That stood from the city a mile two or three. 


Thus all the day long he begg'd for relief, 
And all the night long he played the false thief, 
For seven years together this custom kept he, 
And no man knew him such a person to be. 

There were few graziers went on the way, 
But unto the Cripple for passage did pay, 
And every brave merchant that he did descry. 
He emptied their purses ere they did pass by. 

The noble Lord Courtney, both gallant and bold. 
Rode forth with great plenty of silver and gold, 
At Exeter there a purchase to pay. 
But that the false Cripple the journey did stay. 

For why, the false Cripple heard tidings of late. 
As he sat for alms at the nobleman's gate, 
This is, quoth the Cripple, a booty for me, 
And I'll follow it closely, as closely may be. 

Then to his companions the matter he mov'd. 
Which their false actions before had prov'd, 
They make themselves ready and deeply they swear, 
The money's their own before they come there. 

Upon his two §tilts the Cripple did moimt. 
To have the best share it was his full account, 
All cloathed in canvass down to the ground. 
He took \ip his place his mates with him rDund. 


Then came the Lord Courtney with half a score men. 
Yet little suspecting these thieves in their den. 
And they perceiving them come to their hand. 
In a dark evening bid them to stand. 

Deliver thy purse, quoth the Cripple, with speed. 
We be good fellows and therefore have need. 
Not so, quoth Lord Courtney, but this I'll tell ye. 
Win it and wear it, else get none of me. 

With that the Lord Courtney stood in his defence. 
And so did his servants, but ere they went hence. 
Two of the true men were slain in this fight. 
And four of the thieves were put to the flight. 

And while for their safeguard they run thus away. 
The jolly bold Cripple did hold them in play. 
And with his pike-staff he wounded them so. 
As they were unable to run or to go. 

With fighting the Lord Courtney was out of breath. 
And most of his servants were wounded to death. 
Then came other horsemen riding so fast. 
The Cripple was forced to fly at the last. 

And over a river that run there beside. 
Which was very deep, and eighteen foot wide. 
With his long staff and his stilts leaped he. 
And shifted himself in an old hollow tree, 


Then throughout the city was hue and cry made, 
To have these thieves apprehended and staid, 
The Cripple he creeps on his hands and his knees, 
And in the high-way great passing he sees. 

And as they came riding he begging doth say, 
O give me one penny, good masters, I pray. 
And thus unto Exeter creeps he along, 
No man suspecting that he had done wTong. 

Anon the Lord Courtney he spies in the street. 
He comes unto him and kisses his feet, 
God save your honor and keep you from ill, 
And from the hands of your enemies still. 

Amen, quoth Lord Com*tney, and therewith threw 

Unto the poor Cripple an Enghsh crown. 
Away went the Cripple, and thus he did think, 
Five hundred pounds more will make me to drink. 

In vain that hue and ciy it was made, 

They found none of them though the country- was 

But this grieved the Cripple night and day, 
That he so unluckily mist of his play. 

Nine hundred pounds this Cripple had got, 
By begging and thieving, so good was his lot. 


A thousand pound he would make it, he said. 
And then he would give over his trade. 

But as he striv'd his mind to fulfill. 
In following his actions so lewd and so ill, 
At last he was taken the law to suffice. 
Condemned and hanged at Exeter ^size. 

Which made all men amazed to see, 
That such an impudent cripple as he. 
Should venture himself such actions as they. 
To rob in such sort upon the high-way. 


Phil LIS ! lovely charmer, say, 
Would'st thou know th^unerring way, 
And with heart unfaihng wish 
Made by thee the Cornish dish ? 

First from bounteous Ceres store. 
Walls erect of wheaten flour. 
Walls, of which the ample round 
Holds within a gulf profound ; 
Then in parts minutely nice. 
Soft and fragrant apples slice ; 
With its dainty flesh, the sheep 
Next must swell the luscious heap ; 
Then the onions savory juice 
Sprinkle, not with hand profuse. 
Merely what may sting the eye. 
Not make charming Phillis cry, 

These ingredients well disposed, 
And the summit fairly closed, 
Lives the epicure, whose heart 
Will not feel of love the smart ? — 
If not for PhiUis 'self, at least 
For PhilUs' pie ! and Phillis' paste ! 



GiuE vs once a drinke for and the blacke bol, 

sing gentle Butler bulla moy : 
For and the black bole, 

sing gentle Butler bulla moy. 

Giue vs once a drinke for and the pint pot. 

Sing gentle Butler bulla moy : 
The pint pot, 

for and the black bole, &c. 

Giue vs once a drinke for and the quart pot, 

sing gentle Butler bulla moy : 
The quart pot, the pint jsot, 

for and the black bole, &c. 

Giue vs once a drinke for and the pottle pot, 

sing gentle Butler bulla moy : 
The pottle pot, the quart pot, the pint pot, 

for and the black bole, &c. 

Giue vs once a drink e for and the gallon pot, 

sing gentle Butler bullu moy : 
The gallon pot, the pottle pot, the quai't pot, the pint 

for and the black bole, &c. 


Giue vs once a drinke for and the verkin, 

sing gentle Butler bulla moy : 
The verkin, the gallon pot, the pottle pot, the quart 
pot, the pint pot, 

for and the black bole, &c. 

Giue vs : kilderkin, &c. Giue vs : ban-ell, &c. Giue 

vs : hogshead, &c. 
Giue vs : Pipe, &c. Giue vs : Butt, &c. Giue vs : 

the Tunne, &c. 

E 2 



July 3, 177G. 
(Prhited in Archi£ologia,^vol. 5. p. 83. J 

Bluth vee Eue try Egence a pemp 

my age is threescore and five 

theatra vee dean Boadjaek anjjoscas 

I am a poor fisherman 

me rig dcshey Cornoack termen me ?;ee mawe 

I learnt Cornish when I was a boy 

me vee demore gen cara vee a jJemj} dean moy en cock 

I have been to sea with my father and five other men 

in the boat 

me rig scantloicer cloices Edenger soicsnach Coices en 

and have not heard one word of Enghsh spoke in the 

rag sythen ware bar 

for a week together 

no rig a vee hiscath gwellas lever Cornoack 

I never saw a Cornish book 

me deskey Cornoack mons da more gen tees coath 

I learned Cornish going to sea with old men 

na ges moye vel yager pe pemp endreau nye 

there is not more than four or five in our town 


Ell classia Cornish lehen 

can talk Cornish now 

jwhle coath puger eyance hlouth 

old people four-score years old 

Cornoack ewe all ne cea ves yen jjoble youiik 

Cornish is all forgot with young people. 



IcHE cham a Cornyshe man al che can brew 

It wyll make one to kake, also to spew 
It is dycke and smoky, and also it is dyn 

It is lyke wash, as pygges had wraffled dryn 
I che cannot brew, nor dresse Fleshe, nor vyshe 

Many volke do segge, I mar many a good dishe 
Dup the dore gos, iche hav some dyng to seg 

Whan olde knaues be dead, yonge knaues be fleg 
Iche chaym yll a fyngred, iche swere by my fay 

Iche nys not eate no soole sens yester daye 
Iche wolde fayne taale ons myd the cup 

Nym me a quart of ale, that iche may it of sup 
A good gosse iche hav a toome, vyshe and also tyn 

Dynke gosse to me, or els iche chyl begyn 
God watysh great colde, and fynger iche do abyd 

Wyl your bedeuer gosse come homeatthe next tyde 
Iche pray God to conn him wel to vai'e 

That when he comit home, myd me he do not starre 
For putting a straw dorow his great net 
Another pot of ale good gosse, now me fet 


For my bedauer wyl to London, to try the saw 
To sew Tre poll pen, fen- wa^^gyng of a straw 

Now gosse farewell yche can no longer abyde 

Iche must ouer to the ale howse at the yender sydc 

And now come myd me gosse, I thcc pray 
And let vs make mery, as long(; as we may. 

Cornwal is a pore and very barrc countrcy of ai 
maner thing, except Tyn and Fysshe There meate, 
and theyr bread, and drincke, is marde and spylt for 
lacke of good ordring and dressinge. FyiTos and 
turues is their chief fewcl, there ale is starke nought, 
lokinge white and thycke, as pygges had wra.stclcd 
in it, smoky and ropye and neuer a good sope, in 
moste places it is worse and worse, pitie it is them to 
curse, for wagginge of a straw they will go to law, 
and al not worth a hawe, ])laying so the dawe. In 
Cornwal is two speches, the one is naughty englyshe, 
and the other is Cornyshe speche. And there be 
many men and women the which cannot speakc one 
Worde of Englyshe but all Cornyshe. Who so wyll 
speake any Cornyshe, Englyshe and Cornyshe dotii 

fyuc. six. scuen. 
piuij). whe. syth. 
twi'luc. thcrtcne. 
dinver. tredeec. 
Fortene. fyften. syxtene. seuentine. cyghtyne. 
peswardeec. pympdecc. whedeec. sythdecc. ethdecc. 











. ten. 







Nyntyne. twenty, one and twenty, two and twenty, 
nawdecc. Igous. ouyn war igous. dow war igous. 
Three and twenty, fouer and twenty, &c. 
tray war igous. peswarygous, and so forthe tyl 

you come to thyrty. 

No Cornyshe man dothe number aboue xxx, and is 
named, Deec warnegous. And whan they haue told 
thyrty, they do begyn agayn, one, two and thre. And 
so forth, and when they haue recouted to a hondred, 
they saye kans. And if they nomber to a thousand 
than thei say myle. 

God morrow to you, syr. 
Dar day dew a why seiTa. 

God spede you, mayde. 
Dar zoa de w-hi math tath. 

You be welcome, good wyfe. 
Welcom a whe gwra da. 

I do thanke you, sy^r. 
Dar dala de why, syra. 

How do you, fare. 
Vata lew genar why. 

Well, God thanke you, good master. 
Da dar dala de why master da. 

Hostes, haue you any good meate ? 
Hostes eus bones de w^hy 

Yes, syr, I haue enowghe. 
Eus sarra grace a vew. 


Giue me some meate, good hostes. 
Rewh bones do vy hostes da. 

Mayde, giue me bread and drinke. 
Math tath eus me barow ha dewas. 

Wyfe, bring me a quarte of wine. 
Gwras drewh quart gwin de vy. 

Woman, bring me some fislie. 
Beuen drewh pyscos de vi. 

Mayde, brynge me egges and butter. 
Math tath drewgh me eyo hag a manyn de \i. 

Syr, much good do it you. 
Syrra betha why lowe wenycke. 

Hostes, what shall I pay ? 
Hostes prendra we pay. 

Syr, your rekenyng is v pens. 
SyiTa igcs rcchen eu pymp in ar. 

How many myles is it to London ? 
Pes myll der eus a lemma de Londres. 

Syr, it is thi'ee houndred myle. 
Syrra, tray kans myle dere. 

God be with you, good hostes. 
Bena tewgena a why hostes da. 

God g}iic you a good nyght. 
Dew rebera vos da de why. 

God send you wel to fare. 
Dew rcth cucnna thee why fare eta. 

God be whyth you. 
Dew gena why. 


I pray you commend me to all good felowes. 
Meesdesyer why commende me the olde mates da. 

Syr, I will do your commaunderaent 
Syrra me euyden gewel ages commaundement why. 

God be with you. 
Dew gena why. 


Ape way ouse, a public house, called The Half-way 

House. Mauy public houses between two towns are so 

Afeari), afraid — used repeatedly throughout Shakesperc 

and contemporary writers. 
Aketha, forsooth. 
Amenuts, almonds. 

Anes, nigh, anigh — from the old word Anewst. 
Angletitch, Angeltwycthys, the earth-worm, Angl. Sax. 

Arear, O strange, wonderful, from Red (Cornish) strange, 

with a prefixed. 
Aru'y, are you. 
Art' EN, art not. 
As LEV, as lief ; as soon . 
AssNEGER, AssiNEGO, an ass — meaning a silly fellow ; a 


" An ussinego may tutor thee : 

Thou scurvy valiant ass !" — Troil. and Cress. 2. — I. 

Aunt, Ant, An, it is common to call elderly or even mid- 
dle-aged people Aunt and Uncle. 

Axed out, having the bans of marriage called out in 

Balch, a rope. 

Baled, grieved— from bale sorrow, apphtd sometuncs as 
beating Bcel Sax 


Bal, Ball, a mine. Bdl, (Cornish) a place of digging ; 
tin works. 

Bazzom, deep pnrple colour, 

Bedoled, stupified with pain or grief, from dole grief. 

Betwattled, turned fool — twattle to chatter childishly. 

BoosTERiNG, labouring so as to sweat. 

Boozy, tipsey ; Boos (Cornish) to drink to excess. 

Bra, brave, meaning fine. 

Braggashans, bragging. 

Brudge, bridge. 

BucHA-Boo, a ghost — Bucha (Cornish), a ghost. 

Bucking, bucking copper ore, is to break it so as to pre- 
pare it for dressing. 

Buddle-boy, boy attending the mines, and employed in 
washing the ore, or huddling. 

Busy, 'Tis busy, i. e. it requires. 

Butt, a cart. 

Buzz A, ajar or pan — Cham Buzza, an earthen pan. 

Call out, to have the bans called out m church. 

Cant, a fall. 

Carr'd, carried. 

Censure, opinion. To censure to be of opuiion. The word 
is frequently used by Shakspere uithe same sense, as — 
" How bless'd am I, 
In my just censure ! — in my true opinion 1" 

Winter's Tate, 2— I. 

Chacks, cheeks. 

Cheel vean, strictly meaning a httle child, but commonly 
used as a famiUar appellation — as " How ar'ee cheel 
vean?" which may be considered, "How are you, 
friend ?" Vean (Cornish) httle. 

Cheeld, cliild. 


Cheens — Cheins, the small of the back, " Chyne of bestys 
bakke" (Prompt Parvul.) cheim (Cornish) The back. 

Chewidden day, Jeu-wbydn (Cornish) "VMute-Tluirs- 
day — The Thursday, that is one clear week before 
Christmas-day, being the day on which black tin or 
ore, was first turned into white tin, or metal in these 

Ching, chin. 

Chowtek, a female fish-vender. 

Chkestmas Stock, the Christmas block, for the fire, 
which in strictness should last, through the hohdays, 
and a piece be preserved to light the next year's stock. 

" Part must be kept, wherewith to teeiid. 
The Christmas log next year." — Ilerrick. 

Clackek, tongue. 

Click hand, left hand — Born Kledk or glikin (Cornish) 

the left hand. 
Cloam, earthen ware. 
Clock, crop or craw. 

Clodgy, clidgy, clutciiy, clammy, sticky. 
Clopping, lame, limping, Kloppek (Cornish) lame. 
Clunkt, clunk, swallowed Klunk (Cornish) to swallow. 
Coajer's-end, cobler's-wax. 
CoANSE, cawnse, scoanes — stones. 
Coats, petticoats. 
Cobb'd, beat, thumped. 
CoBSHANS, money, or savings. 
CoDGAK, Codger, Cadgeu, originally a kind of pedlar ; 

apphed to a mean person as an expresbion of contempt. 


Comfortable, conforming to, agreeable to a thing, obliging. 

'' I have another daughter, 
Who I am sure is kind and comfortable." 

I. ear, 1—4. 

CoNDUDLES, conceits. 

CoosE, course. 

CoosTOM, a drop of custom is a little brandy after goose, 
plum-podding, &c. 

CoosY, cous (Cornish) to talk. Coozy, also is to loiter. 

Cornish hug, a peculiar grip or lock in wrestUng, which is 
most effective when given by a skilful ^Testier. 

CoUR, CORE, a course or turn of work. 

CowAL, a fish-basket of a peculiar form, carried by the fish- 
women on their backs. 

Crapple, a cripple. 

Craw, the crop. 

Craz'd a squeer, cracked or broke, a square or pane of 

Creening, complaining as from illness, old people are 
sometimes said to be creeners. Creyie, (Cornish.) 

Crock, a vessel or pot, generally apphed to an iron vessel 
with short feet or legs.. Croca, Angl. Sax. Crochait, 
(Cornish) a pot. 

Cropeing, stingy. 

Crowd, a fiddle ; Crowder a fiddler, Crwth, Welsh, 

Crum, Croom, a httle bit, in the other parts of the king- 
dom, the word is confined generally to cnimbs of 
bread. Cruma, Sax. 

Cur'lls, carlls, Christmas carols, still much in vogue in 
the "West ; the parish singers going about from house 
to house for the purpose. Some of these carols are of 


considerable antiquity. Karol, (Cornish) a choir, a 

CuYN, coin, money. 

Deef, rotten, as a bad nut is said to be deef. 

Ding Dong, name of a Mine. 

Do AT Figs, dried figs. 

Doodle, to trifle. 

DousT, DousTiNG, pelt, beat. 

Drang, a gutter or drain. 

Dreeving, dri™ig, sometimes applied as hurrying. 

Dreuling, Druling, talking in an imbecile manner, 

Drlmbledrane, a drone. Dnnnhlc, to go about anytliing 
awkwardly. " Go take up these clothes lu-re, 
quickly ; where's the cowl-staft" I look, how you 
drumble.'''' (Merry Wives of Wiudsor, .5 — '.i.) 

Durk, dark, blind. 

Di'RNEs, the side posts of a door or gate. Dorn, (Coniish) 
the door-post. 

Diss' EN, dost not. 

Dwaling, speaking in a confused way. Angl. Sax. direflan, 
to speak rambling as a sick person. 

Emtrent, impudent. 

Fade, to go, applied now more j)articidarly to the Furry- 
dance through the streets of Ilelstone, on tlic ^^tb of 
Fa DGE, to get on or fare, " IIow do'ec fadge ?" i.e. " IIti« 
do you get on or do ?" also to suit or agree, from 
Ang. Sax. fcfjnn. " ^^ e will have if this fadije not, 
an antic." (Love's Labour Lost, f) — L) 
Fang, Fangino, to get, to seize, fanging, apjilicdas euni- 
iugs, from Angl. i>n\. fa/ii/a/i. 


Fatching, fetching ; fetching home, meaning, going home- 

Few, httle, a few hroth, meaning a httle broth. 

FiGGY Pudding, a plum-pudding; raisins being called figs. 

FiTTY, clever, proper, becoming. 

Flam new, quite new. 

Flopt, flop, to drop down clumsily, to be flopt, to be flouted. 

FoGAKS, a kind of cake. 

FooTCHED, FoucHED, pushed, shoved. 

FoETHY, forward. 

Gale, an ox. 

Gallish, gallows. 

Gaukums, gaukum, a simpleton. Goky, (Cornish) a fool. 

Gin and Treacle, a mixture of this sort was sometimes 
called mahogany, from its colour. 

GissiNG, guessuig. 

Giz-daunce, guise-dance, applied to the Christmas plays. 

Glassenbury Dog, a term of reproach, the origin at pre- 
sent " unbeknovm" to the editor. 

Glut, glut, satiated. 

Gouted, gutted. 

Goggling for Gapes, looking foohshly amazed. 

Gossan, is the coiurse or bed of the lode in a mine, keenly 
gossan^ is a kind or friendly looking gossan, sometimes 
applied to other midertakings that look prosperous. 

Gowk, a bonnet worn by covmtr}^ people, with a sort of 
flap or curtain behind, that protects the back of the 
neck from the weather. 

Grass, the surface of a mine, when ore is brought up, it is 
said to be brought to grass. 

Greef, to make geeef or grief between two persons, /. e., 
to make mischief. 


Hastis, hasty. Hysty (Cornish) haste, make haste. 

Havage, race, family, ancestry. 

Heavy Cake, a flat, compact, and pleasing variety of cur- 
rant cake, which should be eaten hot from the oven. 

Heep, hip. 

Hepping Stock, leaping-stock, horse-block. 

Hire, hear 

HoDDYMANDODDY, a simpleton. Ben Jonson uses the si- 
milar word Hoddy-doddy in Every Man in his Hu- 
mour (4' — 8). 

" Well, good wife, bawd Cob's wife, and you, 
That make your husband sucii a Iwddtj-tloddu." 

HoGGAN BAG, a miner's bag, wherein ho carries his pron- 

sions. Hog an (Cornish) coarse ; also, a pork pasty. 
HoozY, ha\ing a hoarseness, or cough. Iloosf, hoose, a 

cough ; Angl.-Sax. hivosta. IIuz. (Cornish) hoarse. 
HouzEN, houses. 
Hum, home. 

Jeffy, in a jiflFy, in a trice. 
I'facks, in faith, 
JosiNG, scolding. 
JouDS, pieces, jots. 
Ire, iron. 
JuE, you. 

Jung, young. Jungk {Covn\%\\) young. 
Keep company, when people arc courting, they are said to 

keep company. 
KeNDLE TEENING, candle lighting time. To tine or tcni 

a candle, i. e. to light it. Angl.-Sax. tynan to ligbt. 
Kepen, captain. The superintendants, or inspectors at 

mines, are called captains. 


Kerryeb Kye, name of a mine. 

KiBBEL, a kind of large bucket, used in mines. 

Kicky, to stammer, or hesitate in speech. 

KiCKLiSH, tottering. 

Lashes of rain, beating rain. 

Lattice, latteen, tin, or iron tinned over. 

Leart, empty. 

Lie, a leek. 

Like, such. 

LiNNEY, a shed for cattle. 

LoBBA, LOABER, LUBBA, an awkward fellow, a lubber. 

Lubber-cocks, turkey-cocks. 

Lutterpouch, a slovenly fellow. 

Mabjer, a pullet. 

Made home, to make home, ?. e. to shut, or make fast the 

Make games, sports, frolics. 

Make wise, make believe. 

Man Ingine. The miners in Cornwall ascend and descend 
the mines by ladders, a work of great labour, and very 
prejudicial to health. It has long been wished to 
remedy this practice, and premiums have been offered 
for any effectual method of ob^'iating it. At a large 
mine called Tresavean, an apparatus of simple principle 
has been adapted to one of the steam engines, which 
enables the men to ascend and descend with very httle 
exertion, but the cost of the first outlay, has prevented 
its use hitherto throughout the country, though it has 
been stated that such cost would be more than replaced 
in a moderate time. The apparatus is called the Man 
Engine, or In-gine. 


Mashes, quantities, masses. 

Maur, a root. 

Maze Jerry Pattick, mad simpleton. 

Mazed, bewildered. 

Mazedish, confused. 

Men, them. 

Mix, met. 

Mid JANS, small pieces, mites. 

Moiles, mules. 

MoRT, a plenty. 

MuGGiTY PYE, a pie, made of calves' entrails. 

MuNDic, this term is applied to the different varieties of 

pyrites, which are sometimes exceedingly beautiful as 

specimens, but of no value in a connnercial point of 

Mured, squeezed. 

MURELY, nigh, almost. Miir (Cornish) much. 
Nackin, a handkerchief. 
NiTEY, good nW ey ; goodnight. 
Noance, on purpose, for the occasion. Naus (Cornish) 

now : and see Promptorium Parvulorum : Way's ctl. 

for Camden Society, pp. 1/3-4 ; the word is frequently 

used by Shakspeare and his cotemporaries. 
NoozLED THE NEi'PLE, to uuzzlo, or nestlc, as a child in its 

mother's bosom. 

*' Those motliers who, to noutle up their babes, 

Thought nought too curious . . ." — (I'ericles, 1 — 4) 

Notions, fancies, fashions. 

Odds, What's the odds ? /. e. V/hat's the ditTi rence? 

Out-winders, bow or bay-windows. 



Padzher pou, pagetepoos, efts, lizards, literally four 

footed; from padzhar and paw (Cornish) four and 

Paltcu't, patched up as applied to sickly people. Palch 

(Cornish) mending poorly from sickness. 
Passon, parson. 
Pattic, a simpleton. 
Pednpaly, a tomtit. 
Peeee, peer, a party ; a pair of miners, meaning a gang 

who take a particular piece of work or pitch, as it is 

called, in a mine, and frequently consists of five men ; 

the term is also applied to a string of mules. 
Pellas, a coarse sort of grain, a kind of oat. 
Pewer, pure, pretty much ; very ; used as expressions of 

increase ; as, j)iire and stout, very stout. 
Pig's crow, a pig-stye. 
Piggy whidden, the yoimgest or smallest pig of the 

litter, literally the little white pig ; Whidn or Gwydn, 

meaning white in Cornish. 
PiLCHER, a pilchard. 
PiLLOw-BERE, a pillow-case. 
PisKY, a fairy. Pishy, (Cornish) a fairy : there are several 

remains of these in the West. 
Plan CHIN G, plauched, planks, boards, boarded, wooden 

floor. French, plancher. Shakespere, mentions " a 

planched gate," in Measure for Measure. Plankan, 

(Cornish) a plank. 
Ploffy, soft, plump. 
PoAM, to pummel, to pound with the fist. 
PocKS, shoves or pushes. 


PoLDAVY, a sort of coarse cloth, or canvass ; Powle-Danes 
was formerly the name of sail-cloths, of which the 
manufacture was introduced into England about the 
32nd of Elizabeth, and an act was passed in 1 st James 
I. to protect the manufacture. 

PoLRUMPTUOUs, rcstive. 

P0LTAT£S, TATIES, potatoes. 

PoMSTER, to quack. Ponster, (Cornish) quackery. 

Poodle, this'm side of the poodle ; this side of the chan- 

PooTED, POOT, to poot, to kick, to push away. 

PossED UP, pushed up, placed up. 

Powers, a great number. 

Preen, Penr}n. 

Peidy, proud. 

Prinked, dressed smartly, decked out. 

Proper, handsome. 

PuNNiON end, the gable end of a house. 

QuiLKiNS, a species of frog. GuUkin, Kuilhen, Quilquui, 
(Cornish) a frog. 

QuAT, to sit down quietly ; the American absquotilate 
would appear the reverse of this. 

Roadling, delirious. 

Rud, red. Rudy (Cornish) red. 

RUMBELOW ; the burden to the Furr}'-day Song is 

" With Halantow 
Rum below.'' 

How it got applied to this song cannot be stated. This 
or somethiu": vcrv similar soonis to have been used in 
old sea songs, and Ila/oio was an ancient " schyp- 


manys crye." — (Prompt, Parvul. Way's edition, 223.) 
As for example : — 

" They rowede hard, and sungge ther too, 

With heuelow and rumbeloo." — (Richard Cceur de Lion.) 

" Your mariners shall synge arowe, 

Hey Low and rumbylowe." — {Squt/re of lowe degree.) 

" With heue alowe— with rambylow." 

( Battle of Bannockburn.) 

" Trolle on away, troUe on awaye, 

Synge heave and howe rumbelowe trolle on away." 

(Song on Thomas Lord Cromuell.) 

There was the same cry on the occasion of Sir John 
Norman going by water to Westminster, he being the 
first Lord Mayor who had a water procession. The 
use of such an ancient burden, wotild be an argument 
for the antiquity of the song, of which the words 
however may have been somewhat modernized. 

Rumbustious, noisy, troublesome. 

Saates, salves. 

ScAAL OR scaal'd CREAM OR MILK. Scal'd crcam is the 
celebrated clouted cream. Scal'd milk is the milk 
after the cream has been taken from it. 

Scat, skat, a blow. Skat, (Cornish) a blow, to break. 
Skuattin, (Cornish) to strike, to scat, to give a blow. 
Scat is also applied in the sense of broken or ruined, 
as to say such a person is scat. 

ScAVEL AN Gow, confuscd talking, chattering. Skaval 
angow, (Cornish) the bench of lies. 

ScLAU, scLAW, to scratch. 

ScOANES, the stones or pavement. 

ScoY, thin, poor, generally appled to silks or stuffs. 


ScRANCHiXG, scrunching, cranch, to crush a hurtl sub- 
stance between the teeth. 

ScREEDLE, to cower over the fire, or enibers. 

ScRiNKT, screwed. 

ScROUGE, scruf.lge, to squeeze as in a nowii, u> crowii tu- 

Scud, to spill. 

Scuff of the neck, the hinder part of the neck. 

Seeling, the ceiling. 

Shaft, the perpendicular well-like entrance to a mine. 

Shanks, the legs. 

Shape, htter, mess. 

Shoul, a shovel. 

Surimmed, chilled. 

Skeses, skeyce, to run away, to frisk about. i^Arsi/, 
(Cornish) to escape, flee. 

Skew, thick drizzling rain. 

Skid the wheel, to stop or put the drag on a wheel at tlie 
descent of a hill. 

Skoal, scool, a shoal of fish. The word is used liy 
Shakspearc and Milton. Scole, Sax. 

Skrimmage, bustle, or confusion. 

Slamm'd, beat. 

Sliveus, slices, small pieces. S/isaii, Sax. to cut into 

Slockan, slock, to entice. 

Slotteky, dirty, wet, nnuldy. Slotteree, (Cornish) rainy 
weather, foul and dirty. 

Slydom, cunnhig. 

S.MUKT, smart. 


Some, when applied to figures, means about, as ten or 
some ; i. e. about ten, or some ten — 

" I have three daughters ; the eldest is eleven ; 
The second and the third, nine, and some five." 

Winters Tale, 2— I. 

Sos, SOASE, neighbour, friend, companion. 

Sous, thar's down souse, that's plain. 

Spaaes, spars, quartz crystals, commonly called Cornish 

diamonds, and other showy specimens. 
Span, to fasten two legs of a beast together. 
Spangars, Spaniards. 
Sparables, nails, generally applied to those in the soles of 

rustic shoes, sparrow-bills. 
Spicaty, speckled. 
Spur, time ; a pewer spur, i. e. some time ; as in other 

places the term "a good bit" is used. 
Spurticles, spectacles. 
Squab pie, a pie made of apples, onions, mutton, pepper, 

salt, and sugar. 
Squabbed, squeezed. 
SauADGED, pushed or squeezed. 
SaUARDED, torn. Squerd (Cornish) a rent, anything torn. 

Sqimrdia, (Cornish) to tear. 
Squinnied, squinny, to look aside or askance, with lids 

half closed. 

" Dost than squinny at me?'' — (^Lear, 4 — 6.) 

Stam bang, plump down. 

Stank, to tread upon. 

Starry gazy pie, a pie made of pilchards and leeks, the 


heads of the pilchards appearing throujih the crust, 
as if they were studying the stars. 
Stave, to knock down. 
Steeved, to stow, or force down. 
Stem, a day's work. 

Stickleu, an umpire or arbitrator in a wn-stling match. 
Stogg'd, stagg'd, stuck. 

Stompses, the tin ore when raised from the mine is lir<ik«n 
into small pieces bv a ])Owerl"iil set of perpendicular bars 
beating alternately, worked by steam-ongino or wnter- 
wheel — thev are called Stamps, and make a most 
deafening noise. 
Stompey, to stump or walk. 
Stram, stramming, a great lie. 
Streeved, tried, strove. 
Strove, confusion. 
Stuff, ore. 
Stun, stone. 

Suant, suantly, smooth, smoothly, prosperously. 
Taking, a sad condition. 
Tamlyn, a miner's tool. 
Tantrums, whims, freaks. 
Tarving, struggling, storming. 
Teem, to pour out. 

Teening time, time of candle lighting. 
Teeites, to rights. 
Terrectly', directly. 


Thumping, great, large. 
Tidy, decent, clever. 
TiMBREN, TiMin:itEN, wooden. 


TiMDOODLE, silly fellow. 

TlMERSOME, fearful, timorous. 

TooTLEDUM Pattick, foolish simpleton. 

Tod, toad. 

Tokened to, betrothed to. 

Tom-toddies, tadpoles. 

TouziNG, touze, to pvdl about rudely. 

Town-place, farm-yard, the word town is apjdied iu three 
different ways that seem pecuhar to the county. 
Town-place, as above, meaning the farm-yard and 
offices. Church-town, the village where the parish 
chm"ch is situate, no matter how few the houses may 
be ; and Town of trees, a clump, or collection of 

ToYTiSH, pert, snappish. 

Traade, chymist's preparations, physic. 

Trapesing, walking slovenly. 

Tregeagle, a character of some note iu the county ; he 
was originally a person who possessed himself, by 
most irregular and violent means, which would have 
afforded a most exciting poUce report, of property 
which did not belong to him ; after his death he was 
condemned to various impossible tasks, and sometimes 
now may be heard in very stormy weather, expostu- 
lating loudly at his ill-usage. 

TuBBANS, clods of earth. Tubuns, (Cornish) great clods 
of earth. 

Tuck't, chucked. 

TuMMALS, a quantity. Tomals, (Cornish) quantity, great 
heaps of anything. 

TuRMiTSj turnips. 


TuTCH PIPE. The labourers are in the habit of stopping 
from work for about half an hour in the aAenioon by 
way of relief, whieh they call touch-pipe ; hrnev ap- 
plied to any cessation of labour. 

Vallee, value ; a few hours vallee ; in a fi-\v honrr>' time. 

Veers, young pigs. 

Veistes, fists. 

Waist, ways. 

Warny, I warn'y, I dare say. 

Wassail. The wassail-bowl is still in use in nuuiv pan* 
of Cornwall, at Christmas time. It's history would 
require too much space. 

Welle' er, just now. 

West' EN, will not. 

Whap, a knock. TJ'hafy (Cornish) a blow. 

Wheel boo, the name of a mine. Mines are constantly 
called Jf heef, Wheal, or Huel. In Cornish Iluel is 
a mine. 

Wished, didl, melancholy, foohsh. 

Yeffer, heifer. 

Yewling, howUiig. 





Rob -in Hood and Little John, they both-are gone to 

1 IS — I STT — r-^ 



— ^ — • — =1- 









fair, O ! And we will go to the mer-ry green woods to 


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see what they do there, O ! And 

I , j— j =i — I — \-\i == 

for to 








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chase, O ! To chase the buck and doc, 














With Ha - Ian - tow, Uiiin - hlr, 1 For 







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we were up as soon as a - ny day, O 






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And for to fetch the Sura - mer home. The 











Sum-mer and the May, O ! For Sura-mer is 

4 — =1- 











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come, O ! And Win-ter is a - gone, O 







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Santa Barbara 


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